Mysterious Ways
by Butterfly Dreamer
Summary: It had been 3:17am when Dean Winchester awoke in a cheap motel room to discover he had a 16 year old daughter whose mother had died in a mysterious fire. Will she be the deciding factor in a battle he and Sam have been fighting their entire lives?
1. Chapter 1

**Summary**_: At 18, Dean Winchester had a one-night stand with an Australian backpacker. Never did he imagine that 16 years later his past would come back to haunt him in the form of his teenage daughter. _

It had been 3:17am in the morning when Dean Winchester had awoken in a cheap motel room to discover that he had a 16-year-old daughter. He'd tried to ignore the insistent ringing at first, instead preferring to bury his head in his pillow.

'Dude! Answer your phone.' Sam mumbled irritably, throwing the offending mobile at his brother's head.

'Bitch.' Dean winced, sitting up slowly and fumbling with the answer button for a moment. 'Hello?'

It had been a lawyer calling from Sydney, Australia to inform him that one Laura Black had died in a mysterious fire three weeks ago. Laura had no living relatives and everyone had believed that her 16-year-old daughter was an orphan until they tracked down the girl's birth certificate. Her father was recorded as being one Dean Winchester. It had taken some time to track him down. The US authorities had claimed he had died at 27 and his only living relative was his brother Sam. Refusing to believe this, the lawyer had dug deeper and somehow managed to find that Dean Winchester was very much alive.

That was a week ago, now the Winchester brothers were at the airport. Waiting.

At first, Dean's fear of planes had been restricted to flying only. Now he hated airports too. He hated the air of anticipation, the ridiculously expensive food, the fact that every second shop seemed to sell trashy magazines. Did anyone honestly care whether Britney Spears was wearing underwear or not??

They'd been there for two hours before Sam had thought to inquire if the flight had been delayed. It had.

He glanced over at his younger brother, who seemed perfectly content with checking his e-mails on that stupid bloody laptop of his. How could he be so calm?

'Dude, relax.' Sam looked up at his brother as though he had read his thoughts, then again, being the Haley Joel Osment wannabe that he was, he probably had. 'Just sit down, read a magazine or something. Breathe. You're driving me insane.'

'Well it's not all about you, geek boy.' Dean snapped.

Sam didn't even merit this with a response. And so Dean continued to pace restlessly , humming Metallica under his breath. It still hadn't sunk in. He had a daughter. He was a father. Father to a 16-year-old girl he hadn't even known existed.

And it seemed without even knowing him, she had been affected by the Winchester curse. The lawyer hadn't given too many details about the fire but had said something about an electrical fault. It had been an old house. Sam had researched the town they had lived in on the Internet. The local paper was online and wrought with stories about cattle mutilation and electical storms. The demon had struck again. But somethings just didn't add up. She was 16, not 6 months old. She hadn't even been in the house at the time. Had it just taken Laura for the hell of it? No, the demon never did anything without a purpose. For some reason, it wanted to unite Dean and Ella. And it sure as hell wasn't because it had gone all Oprah on them.


	2. Chapter 2

For the first time in her life, humming the songs of what her mother termed 'mullet rock' wasn't doing anything to calm Ella Black down. No matter how unsettling the situation, she'd always found a chorus of Master of Puppets or Back in Black oddly soothing. But then, as far as unsettling situations went, this had to rank way above any other.

For a start, her mother was no longer here to call Ella's music 'Mullet Rock.' She was dead. The fact still hadn't sunk in and Ella wondered if it ever would. Someone had once told her that you could never describe the feelings that hit you when a loved one had passed. And it was true. There seemed to be no way to articulate the total feeling of numbness that seemed to replace the aching grief and sadness whenever the pain became too much. Then, there was the fact that she was on a plane…she hated flying. And as if that wasn't unsettling enough, the reason she was on a plane was because she was on her way to the U.S. to meet her father for the very first time.

Oh God.

The seatbelt light flashed and an overly perky flight attendant announced over the loudspeaker that they were now descending into America. Ella shoved a handful of peanut M&Ms into her mouth, more to stop herself from feeling her stomach churn with nervousness than because she was actually hungry.

For the fifteenth time in the last hour alone, Ella pulled out the rumpled photograph that was now the only link she had to her father. There had been other pictures but they had been lost in the fire, along with everything else…along with her mother.

The picture was taken in front of a black Impala parked next to a river. Her mother was just eighteen, smiling infectiously in a tank top and a pair of denim shorts, the guy standing next to her was smiling too…or was it more of a smirk? He had his arm around her mother but it seemed more of a friendly thing than anything romantic. And so it had been at the start, as the story went that her mother had told her countless times. They had been friends for the two weeks Laura had stayed in New England but on the last night after a few too many rounds of poker and maybe even beer before she left, things had changed…She had found out she was pregnant only after she returned to Australia. She had tried to call Dean countless times until she realised the contact details he'd given her didn't even exist…Nine months later Ella Black was born.

'So this Laura…' Sam brought up at last in an effort to start a conversation. 'Do you actually remember her?'

Dean gave him an offended look. 'Yes.' He snapped. 'I met her when me and Dad were doing that jack-in-irons job in New England. You stayed with Bobby cos you had exams or something.'

'Did you love her?' Sam probed bluntly. When Dean stared at him blankly he elaborated. 'I mean…did you…have feelings for her? Were you…fond of her-'

'I know what love is, Dr Phil, I'm not an idiot.'

'Ok, jeez.' Sam smirked. Dean maintained what he evidently believed to be a dignified silence.

'Well, did you?' Sam pushed.

Dean rolled his eyes, Sam wasn't going to give up. 'Well no.' He admitted. 'And she didn't love me…. We were friends…we hung out…it shouldn't have got that far that night.' He was silent for a moment, determinedly avoiding his brother's gaze because he knew he was probably getting the soulfully sympathetic puppy dog eyes from him. 'I could have though.' He said grudgingly at last.

Sam opened his mouth to say something sympathetic…meaningful…brotherly. He felt sorry for his brother, even if he was handling it better than he had expected. He was being surprisingly responsible…mature…

'Dude,' Dean said, smirking. 'Did you see that girl's rack?'

Or maybe not.

By the time Ella had disembarked the plane, she was feeling a little worse for wear. She'd been in the same jeans, ballet flats and tank top for over twenty-four hours now. She felt like crap and was well aware she probably looked it too. She caught sight of her reflection in a window and quickly looked away.

This had been the same outfit she had worn on that night. Her heart seemed to twist with grief and guilt as she remembered. She'd been friends with a guy she'd met at a friend's birthday party for a few months. His name was Will and he was cute and sweet, if ridiculously shy. She had liked him a lot. They'd met up a few times. Her friends had called them 'dates' but it wasn't quite like that. That night, she'd taken the initiative and asked him to the movies with a group of her friends. She had watched the movie but to be honest hadn't really taken it in. When he dropped her home, walking her to the door, he began to become quite flustered, stammering until he finally blurted out that he liked her. It was so awkward…she managed something about liking him too before saying that she'd better get inside before her Mum came out.

'Ella, you are a loser.' She told herself as she watched him drive away. She wished she was more confident around guys like her mother was. She had consoled herself that maybe she got it from her father's side of the family. Cheered slightly, she unlocked the front door.

The house was dark and eerily still. This was unusual in itself. Normally her Mum would be awake, waiting to interrogate her. She fumbled with the light switch. Nothing happened. The power must be out…She took out her mobile to use as a light and passed through the kitchen. There was a note scrawled on the blackboard:

_Hope you had a great time! _

_Wake me up the moment you read this!_

_Xoxo_

Smiling, Ella made her way down the hallway to her mother's room. 'Mum?' She called.She saw a figure looking out the bedroom window at the now pouring rain. She grinned. 'Hang on a sec, Mum, I'm just going to dump my bag in my room and I'll come tell you all about it.'

She chucked her bag through her doorway and bounded back to Laura's room. The figure in front of the window had disappeared now but light filtered through a crack in the door to her ensuite…Odd as there was no electricity. But Mum had probably lit candles.

Ella flopped onto the bed and waited. Will liked her! Admittedly she'd made a huge dork of herself and practically run away from him but he hadn't exactly been Mr. Smooth either. A cool breeze blew through the open window, the floaty white curtains ruffling. Rain hit her forehead and she wiped it off automatically.

But it wasn't rain…even in the darkness she could work out that much. She stared at the blood staining the back of her hand in horror. Then, she looked up.

Her heart stopped. She couldn't breathe. In a second that contained an eternity she stared at her mother, pinned to the ceiling, an expression of terror frozen to her face. Blood staining her lacy nightdress and falling in splatters now onto the doona. Why was she wearing a sexy little nightdress? Ella wondered hysterically. She didn't even own one!

'Mum!' She screamed, registering that her voice did not sound like her own as a ball of blue flame engulfed Laura Black. 'Mum! No!'

She didn't know how, but somehow she escaped. Memories of the next couple of weeks were a blur of tears and meaningless words of sympathy. She never told anyone what she had seen that night. But it was something that haunted her dreams every night. She'd caught a glimpse of Will once after the funeral. But hadn't seen him since. And now would probably never see him again. Only a month ago that would have upset her. But since then she felt like she had aged a hundred years. Will was nothing but a distant memory. Her old life was behind her now.

And, head held high she walked out of customs and towards to arrivals lounge. Towards her future.

_Ok thank you to everyone that's read this, you guys are awesome. But the people who read and reviewed are even **more **awesome! I want to know what you guys think. Should I keep writing or should I actually do the ridiculous amount of homework I have? Or both.. Lol, so you know what to do, click on that review button...you know you want to...Please? _


	3. Chapter 3

In any other circumstances, Sam would have laughed out loud at how nervous Dean was.

They were at the International Terminal and now, slowly people on the flight from Sydney began to appear from a door that joined a walkway from the terminal to the plane.

Dean had no idea what his daughter looked like. The only photo the lawyer had been able to send them, not destroyed by the fire, was a dodgy school picture taken five years ago. God knew how much she had changed since then.

'Hey, do you think that's her?' Sam asked grinning, gesturing to a menacingly butch girl wearing a Ghost Busters t-shirt.

'Bitch.' Dean shoved him in the arm.

'Well what about her?' Sam nodded at a waif thin girl with dyed black hunched over with unwashed hair, heavy makeup, ridiculously tight jeans and a mournful the-world-is-against-me expression.

'No daughter of mine listens to emo music.' Dean huffed.

'Her?' Sam pointed.

'Dude, that's a _guy_!'

'Oh.'

'No wonder you never get laid, you don't even know what a girl _is_.'

'Jerk.'

'Bitch.'

Gradually the crowd of people emerging from the plane thinned and Dean began to panic. 'She's walked right past us, hasn't she? Been taken into white slavery or something. Jesus, Sam, what are we going to do? I'm such a horrible father and I haven't even met my kid yet.'

'Dude.' Sam nudged his brother and he fell silent.

A girl had stopped in the frame of the walkway door. She checked a photo in her hand, then looked at them, then back at the photo, frowning slightly. She was tiny, her petite frame made her look fragile, vulnerable, but as she and Dean locked eyes he recognised her almost instantly. As Oprah as it sounded, he just knew.

'That's her.' Dean said quietly.

'Are you sure?'

'Yep.' He replied confidently.

* * *

That was her father. It had to be. He was taller than she had imagined. Why hadn't she inherited any of that height? He had to be about 6'1. But the guy standing next to him dwarfed him. Who was that anyway? A friend? A random stranger? A relative? His _boyfriend_? No, from what Laura had told her, Dean Winchester was definitely straight.

He looked almost exactly the same as he did in the photo except for a bit older and with a few more scars. He was good looking, as creepy as perhaps it may have seemed for her to think that. So was his friend.

She felt suddenly shy and had no idea what she should do next. She half moved toward them then stopped self-consciously. The two men met her halfway. For a few seconds, nobody said anything.

It was Sam who broke the silence. 'So…Ella, right? I'm Sam, Dean's brother. Which I guess makes me your uncle.'

Ella smiled. 'It's nice to meet you.' So he _wasn't _Dean's brother.

Dean remained silent as Ella looked at him expectantly. He seemed completely lost for words.

'Dude.' His brother shoved him.

He finally managed to find his voice. 'Er…hi…. how's it going?' He asked with some effort, holding out his hand.

In the many times she'd pictured this moment since she was five years old and her mother had told her about Dean, this was never quite what she'd imagined.

'Um, good…I guess?' Ella said uncertainly, shaking the proffered hand.

'Good, good, that's good.' Dean answered, cringing inwardly.

'Yes…it's good.'

They fell into an awkward silence.

'So…' Thank God for Sam, Dean and Ella thought gratefully. 'I say we grab all your bags and then go get something to eat.'

'That sounds good.' Ella agreed.

An hour later (why was it that it's always _your_ bags that come out last on the conveyor belt?) the three of them were looking at menus. The car trip had been suitably awkward. Nobody knew quite how to act. Sam had asked a couple of polite questions but Dean had simply focused on driving. Or, tried to. His _daughter _was in the backseat. He had a kid. And she was sitting behind him. She was real. She was part Winchester. He still couldn't believe it. He had no clue what to do. When Sam had meaningfully left various parent-help books lying around with titles such as _How to communicate with your teenager,_ _Raising Girls _and _Help! I'm a Father (When a one-night stand turns into a life long commitment), _Dean had simply told his brother that he was whipped. He was starting to regret it.

Now, in the back booth of, he couldn't help but watch her as she and Geek boy chatted easily about books or something he wouldn't know anything about. She was pretty, almost a spitting image of Laura, but at the same time, there was a stubbornness about the way she stuck out her chin and a glint in her eyes that was all Winchester.

'Would you like to order?' A perky blond waitress asked Dean flirtatiously, shaking him from his reverie. She had so little body fat anywhere else apart from her boobs, it was surprise she had not fallen over yet from lack of balance.

'Heck yes.' Dean smirked, momentarily forgetting his sixteen year old daughter was sitting in the booth across from him.

'Oh but Daddy, I'm not ready yet.' Ella said pointedly, her eyes wide and innocent.

A look of horror appeared on the waitress's face. 'I'll uh…get Marge to come over when you are then.' Said the blonde, abruptly hurrying away as Sam shook with silent laughter. 'I like you already.' He told Ella, who smirked. The Winchester Smirk, Dean noted with a mixture of pride and annoyance.

'A teenage kid, the ultimate turn off.' He muttered under his breath.

'Yeah, well I just met you, I didn't want you arrested. She looks about my age.'

Dean threw her a disgruntled look. But after that the atmosphere lightened considerably. Particularly when Marge turned out to be a grumpy, rotund woman in her 50's who seemed just as keen on Dean as Order Taking Barbie, as Ella had affectionately named the other waitress.

'Can I get a cheeseburger and-' Ella began.

'Are you sure you just wouldn't like to throw another shrimp on the barbie?' Dean asked.

'Oh, ha, ha, would you like fries with that?' Ella returned promptly.

Marge brought back their attention with a rather disgusting cough.

'Sorry,' Ella apologised. 'Um, a cheeseburger and a side of chips…I mean fries and coke please. And sauce…I mean…. _Ketchup_.'

Dean looked at her approvingly. 'Make that two.'

'Three, please.' Sam chipped in.

Marge left and silence fell over the table again.

'So, what do you want me to call you?' Ella questioned bluntly at last. 'I mean, Dad? Daddy? Father? Pops? Pa? Papa? _Daddio_?'

'God no.' Dean shuddered. 'Dean is fine.'

'Dean it is.' She conceded. 'You can just call me Ella.'

'Ella it is. And you can call him Geek Boy.' Dean gestured to his brother.

Sam rolled his eyes. 'Sam is fine.'

* * *

_Hint: Reviews are awesome. And easy to do, all you have to do is click that little drop down box that says Submit Review. _

_Have a nice day!_


	4. Chapter 4

'Do you guys live far from here?' Ella stifled a yawn as the three of them left the diner and stepped into the carpark. It was late, she had jetlag and the only sleep she had managed to grab on the flight over had been punctured by nightmares.

The meal at the diner had been fun. Despite the occasional awkwardness, Ella had been amazed at how relaxed she had felt. To be honest, she couldn't remember the last time she had laughed this much. Every now and then the realisation would hit her _this is my dad and uncle I'm talking to. _It was hard to believe. Having had a mother who was years younger than the rest of her friends parents, she was used to hanging out with people their age. And she had to admit they were cool guys.

'Nah, we'll probably find a motel somewhere.' Dean answered, unlocking the Impala.

'Oh, right.' Ella clambered into the backseat, chucking a leather jacket onto the car floor. She looked at what it had been covering. 'Um, why do you keep a five kilo bag of salt in the backseat?' She raised her eyebrows.

'Sam…loves his sodium.' Dean managed at last. His brother threw him a questioning look.

'Uh, yeah, I do.' Sam agreed unconvincingly, giving Dean his best _We'll talk about this later_ look. Dean studiously ignored him.

'Ok…' Ella yawned again.

Two hours later Sam was shaking her awake while Dean booked two adjoining rooms in a motel.

'I thought, you probably wouldn't want to be kept awake all night by your Uncle Sam snoring.' Dean explained as he unlocked her room while she tried not to fall asleep on her feet.

'Thanks.' She grinned drowsily.

But as soon as she set her suitcase down on the bed, she suddenly wasn't tired anymore. The room was nice. Not 5 star by any means. But there was a TV, ensuite and no harsh fluorescent light or peeling paint and the doona on the bed was mercifully devoid of any suss looking stains or disgusting flower patterns.

She suspected that, for her sake, they'd been driving until they'd found a decent enough motel. At one point she had been dozing when she had realised the car had stopped. Without opening her eyes she had heard Sam get out of the car before returning ten minutes later announcing that the rooms smelt like dead mice.

'Dude, you don't even know what dead mice smell like.' Dean had replied, as the engine spluttered to life.

'Like you.' Sam had responded.

Then she had fallen asleep again.

Now, sticky and dirty, she was desperate for a shower. Twenty minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom feeling 100 better. She flopped on the bed, the adjoining door was open slightly and she could hear Dean and Sam talking…arguing as she soon figured out.

'Sam, her mom died a fortnight ago, she just spent twenty fours on a plane so she could meet her father for the first time, I don't think she's ready for the whole "the truth is out there" speech just yet.'

'I realise that Dean, but what are we going to do? We've been on the road for the past six years. You booked us into this room as Frank and Eduardo Ramirez for God's sake. She's 16, she needs stability, an education, legitimate health insurance!…Have you even thought about this?'

'Of course I have, Sam, damnit, what do you think I've been thinking about for the past week? How to solve global warming?' Dean replied angrily. 'I never thought I'd be Dan the Family Man, ok? Forgive me if I'm a bit new to this whole thing.'

There was silence for a few minutes.

'It's school vacation at the moment anyway, so that gives us at least six weeks to figure things out.' Sam had dropped the lecturing tone now. 'We can just figure it out as we go along…'

'Yeah.'

Seconds later the door swung open and Ella jumped guiltily, hastily seizing the magazine she had bought at the airport and pretending to truly care about whether or not Britney Speaks was wearing underwear.

'Hey,' Dean greeted. 'I thought you'd be asleep by now. You were practically unconscious before.'

'Yeah, I might go to bed actually.' She agreed. 'Just gotta turn off the light.'

'Wait, I've got it.' Dean said hastily. His finger hovered on the switch as he stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, watching her as though he couldn't quite believe she was there. 'Anyway, um, good night.' He said at last, recovering from his reverie with a shake of his head.

She smiled. 'Night.'

He closed the door quietly behind him. And she slept.

_She was staring, transfixed at the ceiling as her mother's blood fell all around her, staining the crisp white bed as the wind wailed and the curtains billowed, looking almost ghostly._

_'Why, Ella?' Laura whispered, her eyes wide with horror. 'Why?' _

_And as the flames seemed to swallow her mother whole,, the dark figure that had been by the window advanced toward her. 'I have plans for you, my child.' It rasped. Its eyes flashed a terrible orange and it reached out its hand toward her…_

Ella woke perspiring, with tears in her eyes and all the sheets and the doona kicked violently to the ground. Her heart beat wildly as she surreptitiously checked the ceiling and struggled to remember where she was. The red letters of the digital alarm clock on the bedside table said 3:17. She had been asleep for barely two hours.

Forty-five minutes later Dean opened her door to find her lying in bed watching infomercials with all the lights blazing.

'You a big fan of George Foreman, huh?' He asked, sitting down on the chair next to a completely random and pointless desk.

'Oh no, but I'm passionate about Pro-active.' She replied.

He laughed.

'I'm sorry if I woke you.' She apologised.

Dean waved his hand dismissively. 'It's ok…but are you?' Her eyes looked distinctly blood shot. And he thought he know what the problem was before she answered. He had seen the same behaviour from Sam in the weeks and months after Jessica's death.

'I had a nightmare that's all, then I couldn't get back to sleep. Damn time zones.'

'Do you…want to talk about it?' Dean was glad his brother was asleep in the other room and unable to witness the pure chick-flickness of the situation.

Ella shook her head mutely. 'I'll be fine.'

'Ok…is it all right if I stay here for awhile?' He asked at last, knowing that she'd definitely be too freaked out to go back to sleep. Hell, if those nightmares had freaked out a 22-year-old college boy, he could only imagine how she must have been feeling. 'Only Sam's snoring and…' He trailed off and she smiled. 'Of course.'

She flipped through the channels. Monster-in-Law was on the movie channel.

'Is it just me or does nobody take Jennifer Lopez as a working class girl seriously?' Ella wondered as the movie showed J.Lo as a dog walker, a receptionist, a caterer, a yoga instructor, a little league coach and an artist in her spare time.

'Trust me, it's not just you.'

They watched the rest of the film in companionable silence.

'Well, that was two hours of my life I'll never get back.' Dean realised as the credits rolled. He looked over and saw that Ella was fast asleep. She looked so small and innocent that he had to smile. Not smirk. Smile. He stood up quietly and backed out of the room. It suddenly occurred to him that maybe having a daughter wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.

* * *

_I hope that was ok. Thank you to everyone who's reviewed! I figure, why stop now when you've got such a good thing going:-) So, you know what to do..._


	5. Chapter 5

_Hey everyone, thank you for the awesome reviews. Sorry it's taken me bloody ages to update. You can thank the half-yearly exams for that. Btw, Sam and Dean wouldn't be that old, Dean is about 34 and Sam is 30. Lol wow that is old. Haha, anyway, on with the story!_

* * *

Several hours later Sam and Dean were sitting in at a table in _Ma Fletcher's House of Pancakes_.

'So what you got, Bill Gates?' Dean asked finally after allowing sufficient time for him to smirk quietly at the concentrated expression on his brother's face as he consulted his laptop.

'Uh…' Sam's brow creased as he accessed a completely random selection of online newspapers. 'Hang on…'

'I'm hanging.' Dean replied easily, sipping his coffee and stabbing a fork into his waffles.

There were a few minutes of silence. 'Ok, I got something,' Sam spoke up at last. 'A county about two hours drive away has been reporting cattle mutilations. Goats mainly. The animals are found with a puncture wound in their necks…with…the organs removed and all the blood gone.'

Dean wrinkled his nose in disgust. 'Anything else?'

'Yeah, the authorities are just explaining it away as a coyote problem but apparently this guy called Darren Birmingham claims to have spotted the thing that's doing all the attacks. He says he heard noises in his barn and so he went to investigate and he saw this thing…apparently he shot at it but it escaped. It had a go at him too, and take a look, it ain't pretty.'

Dean leaned over to inspect the screen. 'Dude, that's just wrong.'

'Exactly.' Sam agreed.

'Well we should check it out.'

'One problem, Dean.' Sam cleared his throat and Dean met his eyes in annoyance, knowing that another lecture was about to commence. 'You have a daughter now. And sooner or later she's going to start asking questions about what we do for a living, why we keep driving but never seem to end up at home. Why we carry enough weapons to supply a small army. I mean, you know this life isn't stable and with a 16-year-old girl it's only going to get more dangerous.'

'I know Sammy. You think I want this life for her?' Dean snapped irritably. 'We're going to have to tell her sooner or later. I don't want her to be a part of it, but we can't shut her out either. Otherwise she'll just discover it accidentally and she'll freak out.'

'Oh yeah well that'll be a conversation to look forward to.' said his brother sarcastically.

'Jesus, Sam, she lost her mom to the demon, you think this life hasn't already affected her before she became part of I?! Maybe it'll be good for her to know the truth, have some kind of closure or whatever the hell you wanna call it. She's not stupid, we can't leave her in the dark.'

At this point in time, Sam glanced out the window and saw the girl in question approaching. 'Look, you're her father, ultimately it's your decision, but I say we take this case, let her do her own thing for awhile, buy us some time and then we come clean.'

Dean couldn't think of another alternative but did not want his brother to realise this, so he settled on shrugging non-committally. The door of the cafe opened and his daughter bounced in, looking like the spitting image of Laura in denim shorts and a singlet top.

'Good morning.' Ella said cheerfully as she reached their table, taking an empty seat.

'Hey, so I assume you found the note?' Dean asked her.

'Oh no, I just roamed the town, barefoot and hysterical, calling your names while the people pointed and stared. I mean it was bad enough to have a piece of paper stuck to my forehead that said _Gone to the pancake place across the road_ without the mockery of the townsfolk to cope with too.' She grinned.

Sam laughed while Dean just raised his eyebrows. 'You're a strange kid.' He told her.

'Apparently I get that from your side of the family.' She smirked as she picked up the menu. After ordering the Death by Chocolate (chocolate pancakes with fudge, chocolate topping, chocolate ice cream, grated chocolate and…strawberries) she casually questioned them about the game plan for today.

'Well um, Sam and I have a job in a town a couple of hours away. We'll book a motel, it shouldn't take more than a few days.' Dean explained, avoiding his brother's gaze as he improvised.

'What do you guys actually do anyway?' Ella finally voiced the question she had been meaning to ask but kept forgetting.

Dean hesitated for a split second while his brother looked at him meaningfully. 'Pest control.'

She wrinkled her nose. 'Ew.'

'Oh you have no idea.' Dean responded. 'See the thing is though, we're kind of on the road a lot,'

'All the time.' Sam corrected helpfully.

'So to be honest, we don't actually have a house, apartment, flat, garbage bag or any type of inhabitable dwelling apart from my car.' Dean confessed.

'Oh.' She frowned.

'Yeah…' said Dean. 'Look if you want to ring that lawyer and get him to take you back Down Under, I fully understand. I know everything's a bit of a mess right now, but I swear that before the end of the summer we'll have somewhere we can settle down, ok? Trust me.'

Ella's pancakes arrived and she glanced at them before returning her eyes to her father. 'Ok.' She said at last. 'It's just a good thing I like road trips.'

* * *

_Ok I realise that chapter was short and not exactly very exciting, it's more of a filler anyway- if I didn't update with at least something now, I probably would have never updated again. Anyway I know where I'm going with this, so it'll get better and more interesting soon. In the mean time, please review!_

_Ciao bella_

_Butterfly Dreamer_


	6. Chapter 6

_Hey guys, I'm baaack. I worked on this today when I should have been doing my Extended Essay but I had to do something Supernatural related cos I'm suffering serious withdrawal atm cos Channel 10 is stupid and has only been playing repeats which I've seen many times before. But luckily I think a new episode comes on tomorrow. Yay!_

* * *

WELCOME TO

GOLDSTONE COUNTY

POPULATION: 653

'Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Hicksville.' Dean announced as they finally reached their destination, cruising underneath the hand painted sign.

'Yeehaw, Pa.' Ella dead panned.

It had been an interesting journey. Dean had blared AC/DC while Ella alternated between head banging and reading _The Complete Works of Jane Austen. _Sam had pretended to check his e-mails, but secretly he had been marvelling at the bizarreness of the situation. He'd seen a lot of weird things in the past, but nothing quite as strange as this.

The town, if you could call it that, was fairly quiet. There were several cobblestone streets of cute little shops shaded by leafy trees, their foliage swaying gently in the afternoon breeze.

'It's nice.' Ella commented. 'It doesn't look like it's infested with termites or anything disgusting like that.'

'Appearances can be deceiving my friend.' Dean informed her. 'Who knows what kind of deep dark secrets are kept hidden behind closed doors.'

'That sounds very Desperate Housewives-esque.' Replied Ella.

'My favourite's the hot Latina one.' Said Dean. 'Gabrielle…Mmm.'

Sam and Ella rolled their eyes.

* * *

'Dude, I feel like such a pansy.' Dean said uncomfortably. 'I tell you what, girl, you're a lot more trouble than I deserve.'

The moment they had driven past a gorgeous Victorian style inn with a rambling rose garden, Ella had insisted that they stay here, pleading and batting her eyelashes until Dean had done a movie-style U-turn and parked in the driveway.

'I like it,' Sam defended.

'Yeah? Well that's because you're whipped.' Dean retorted.

'Personally, I think we should thank you, Ella.' Sam grinned. 'If it was up to Dean we'd be sleeping in the cheapest hole of a place we could find.'

'Yeah, well at least we'd be roughing it like men.' Said the older Winchester.

'I'm not a man.' Ella remarked unnecessarily as she unlocked the door to their adjoining rooms.

'Oh my God!' Dean groaned dramatically as he took in the sight in front of him, the window seat, the floral quilts and canopy beds, and the vases of fresh tulips. 'Paris, I have a feeling we're not in the Hilton anymore.'

The two brothers left about twenty minutes later to commence their 'pest control.' Leaving Ella a handful of twenties and a promise to meet up in the inn's restaurant at 7 for dinner.

After watching the Impala drive away from her window, Ella stuffed the money in her wallet, grabbed her jacket and the room key and left. The air was crisp and cool outside. The Americans were pansies if they called this a hot summer day, she decided.

As she wandered the streets, browsing the shops at her leisure, she felt an odd thrill of independence. Here she was, on another continent, another hemisphere, with another life, and she could do anything. She could be anyone. She smiled as she remembered a time when a friend from another school had invited her to her 17th birthday party. Unwilling to hang around with 100 complete strangers, Ella had dragged along her friend Charlie. A girl who was so quiet and laidback to the point of being lethargic during the day but at night was the most hyper party-girl Ella knew.

_Laura had driven the two of them there, laughing as the two girls exchanged worried glances as they saw the huge blazing bonfire surrounded by an ever-increasing amount of inebriated teenagers._

_'Maybe we shouldn't go…' Ella began at last._

'_Come on girls! It'll be fun! You can be anyone you want at this party cos you'll never anyone here ever again.' Laura had exclaimed cheerfully._

'_And if we did, they probably wouldn't remember us anyway.' Charlie pointed out wisely as Ella laughed. _

'_But think about it! I mean you can be geeky wallflowers, or the life of the party, or even little Paris Hilton types skanks if you want!' Laura continued enthusiastically._

'_Mum! Are you encouraging your sweet innocent daughter to be a promiscuous little-'_

'_Hoe?' Charlie contributed helpfully. _

' _No, but I don't want you guys to sit there bored and awkward all evening. When I was overseas when I was 18 I used to try out different personalities all the time. The best was the Russian actress in LA and New York…' _

'_Was that when you got into the premiere in Hollywood?' Ella laughed._

'_And the Chanel show at Bryant Park?' Charlie added. 'And Johnny Depp sat next to you?'_

'_She has the photo in her wallet.' Ella grinned. _

'_I always wonder though, what has he doing at a fashion show?' Charlie pondered._

'_I'd never thought of that…' Ella mused. 'I guess it is a bit Brokeback.' _

'_Nothing suss.' Charlie grinned._

It had never occurred to her before but now Ella wondered if Laura had played this personality game of hers when she had met Dean. Had Dean ever gotten to know the real Laura? The crazy, vivacious, bubbly, caring, loving Laura Ella had been raised by.

She felt a pang of sadness and longing as once more the full reality of her mother's death hit her. It was not fair. How had it happened? Over and over Ella had tried to come up with a rational explanation as to why what had occurred that night had happened but nothing ever made rational sense. Sometimes she had even come to the crazy conclusion that it had been almost paranormal, supernatural. She always dismissed it, telling herself that she was being stupid, but somehow, deep down, she still had the feeling that evil forces had been at work that night.

Perhaps it was a coincidence, perhaps not. But after thinking about the possible existence of the supernatural, when Ella saw the sign on the shop across the road offering psychic readings she felt inexplicably drawn to it…

* * *

'So where to first, little brother?' Dean asked conversationally as the two of them drove away from the inn.

'I was thinking we should talk to this Darren Birmingham guy. Seeing as he's the only known witness.' Sam announced. 'He lives on a farm about fifteen miles from here.'

'Excellent.' Dean put his foot down on the accelerator and the Impala surged forward, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake.

The rest of the journey passed in relative silence (save for Dean's mullet rock) as the car travelled along a series of long winding roads through the lush green hills of farmland.

'Wow.' Dean remarked conversationally at last. 'It's quiet without the kid, huh? I didn't realise we were so silent before her.'

'Her name's Ella.' Said Sam irritably. 'She's not a goat.'

'Huh?'

Sam merely rolled his eyes.

They pulled up at a gate at the bottom of a hill after almost being hit by a rogue cow barrelling across the narrow road in front of them.

'Is this the place?' Dean asked.

Sam nodded and the two of them climbed out of the car. Opening the gate as a dog barked noisily, hurtling down the slope at them.

'Great, a welcoming committee.' Dean patted the Border collie tentatively as it jumped up and down hyper actively. 'Hey! Easy! These are new jeans!'

'Who's whipped now?' Sam smirked. Dean hit him.

'Can I help you fellas?' A man asked warily, sticking his head out from a shed and limping toward them.

'Mr Birmingham?' Dean questioned authoritatively. 'I'm Dean and this is Sam. We're from the Wildlife Authorities and we'd like to ask you a couple of questions about the coyote you claim to have sighted here on Tuesday.'

'Coyote?' Birmingham sneered. 'Strangest coyote I'd ever seen in my life. Course, the papers like to keep things quiet. Don't wanna kick up a fuss.'

Sam tilted his head politely. 'What do you mean, Mr Birmingham?'

The man scrutinised the two of them. 'Perhaps you two had better come inside.'

* * *

Ella pushed open the door of the shop: Crystal Dreaming. The unmistakable atmosphere of a New Age boutique immediately hit her. The scent of incense and candles, the soothing Gypsy music playing quietly in the background and the tinkling of bracelets.

For a time she pretended to be browsing, gazing blindly at the display cases of sparkly bejewelled rings and gemstone earrings, flipping mindlessly through numerology books and beautiful journals until the velvet clad woman behind the counter smiled at her.

'Are you looking for anything, sweetie?'

'Um…' Ella approached the counter. 'I was wondering…are you doing readings?'

The woman nodded. 'Would you like one?'

'Um yes, please.'

As Ella handed over the money, a curtain behind the woman was drawn and a smiling, dark skinned woman in her fifties looked out.

'Well I'll be damned!' She said jovially, taking in Ella's appearance. 'If it ain't another Winchester!'

As Ella frowned in confusion the woman at the counter smiled. 'You two know each other?'

'That's right! You can give the child back her money, for her this is totally free of charge. Come along, Ella.'

More than a little freaked out, Ella followed the woman behind the purple curtain and into a tiny room with a table and two chairs. As bizarre as all this was, Ella couldn't help but trust her.

The woman sat down and gestured for Ella to do the same.

'Um,' Ella began. 'If you don't mind me asking, who are you?'

'Oh! Of course! You'll have to forgive my manners. Sometimes it's tricky for an old woman like me to remember we don't all see the same things. I'm Missouri Mosely and may I say you have your father's eyes.'

Ella could do nothing but nod politely, not quite sure of how to react to this.

'You're as stubborn as him too.' Missouri continued fondly, as though proudly comparing her favourite grandchildren. Ella smiled at this. 'Ah yes, and you've certainly got the Winchester smirk. Not his height though. Or Sammy's. And I say that's a darn good thing, those boys are far too tall for their own good.'

The smile suddenly disappeared from Missouri's face and her eyes grew serious. 'You're at the beginning of a dangerous path, Ella.' She said sombrely. 'I'm sorry for the loss of your mother, sweetie, but her death is the catalyst of a chain of events that have been destined to happen since long before you were even born. It's in the stars, sweetheart. You are a very special girl. Your father and uncle have been fighting for years to defeat the Yellow Eyed Demon and unbeknownst to them, it is only now that the real battle will begin. You're the key to its defeat, Ella…But you can't let the darkness consume you.'

Missouri watched the wide-eyed girl staring worriedly at her and placed a comforting hand on her small shoulders. 'You have the gift, Ella. And he will underestimate it, he'll think that because you're only half Winchester that you won't have the power of your father and his brother. But he's wrong. And, if our prayers are answered, it's that which will be his undoing.'

'But…who's "he"?' Ella asked quietly, chewing her bottom lip almost afraid of the answer.

Missouri looked at her kindly. 'Why child, I think deep down you already know.'

Flashes of the figure at her mother's window surged through Ella's mind, the man in her dreams '_I have plans for you, my child.' _Numbly, she nodded. 'The one who killed my mum.' She whispered.

'It was no accident that fire, child.' Said Missouri solemnly. 'You have to talk to your dad and your uncle. They lost their mother that way. Sammy lost the love of his life. It was all his doing.'

Ella got abruptly to her feet, head spinning and oddly fighting the urge to burst into tears of grief and anger at everything that she had just heard. 'I should go.' Her own voice sounded hollow in her ears.

Missouri nodded understandingly. 'God bless you, Ella Black.' She said, drawing the curtain for her. 'I see great things ahead of you.'

* * *

'So,' Dean began as he unlocked the Impala an hour later. 'What do you think?'

'I don't know, Dean. Maybe I was wrong, this doesn't seem like our kind of gig. I mean, for a start, Birmingham claims that contrary to what the papers said, he _didn't _get a look at the creature.'

'C'mon Sammy, we've looked into less.' Dean pointed out, buckling his seatbelt and turning the key in the ignition. 'And you gotta admit, it is a little weird. Unless this so-called coyote has a Ph.D in medicine there is no way it could have been _that _thorough with the cattle mutilation. I mean, you saw that cow. No organs left.'

'You know what I _did_ think initially.' Sam began hesitantly, avoiding his brother's gaze and focusing on the road in front of them.

'What?'

'You know we've only ever heard of one other perpetrator of this type of cattle mutilation…'

Dean looked sharply at his brother. 'You mean, you think this might be the demon?'

'I don't know what to think.' Sam admitted. 'I mean, the pattern doesn't fit at all. But he _is _the only one we know that's been responsible for this type of thing.'

'Well maybe we're just not looking outside the box hard enough.' Dean suggested. 'I mean, maybe we've missed something. For one thing, I happen to think that Birmingham was lying through his teeth when he said he didn't get a good look at the thing. I mean you don't keep your eyes shut the whole time when a creature is latched onto you long enough for it to take a chunk out of your leg.'

'So you think we just play it by ear? See if anything else comes up?' Sam looked to the older Winchester for confirmation.

'Yeah, that sounds good to me.' Dean said easily. 'You never know, it might be nothing.'

'Dean,' Said Sam. 'Since when has _anything _we've looked into turned out to be nothing?'

Dean chuckled. 'Good point.'

* * *

_You know how the best thing about posting stories on this site is getting reviews? Hint Well, that's the same for me too. So whether you thought this sucked or rocked, let me know by pressing that little purple button right...NOW!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Hey my lovely readers, long time no update- but not as long as last time, I think. I've had the majority of this chapter written for awhile but I only tacked on the last 230 odd words just now as I decided I really wanted to get this chapter up. It's probably not the best way I could have written the end of it, but you'll have to forgive me because I'm as sick as a dog atm, which, yes gives me more time to write, but probably decreases the quality _of _said writing. Anyway, enough rambling. _

* * *

**Secret's out**

Somehow Ella managed to navigate her way back to the inn despite the fact that she could barely think, let alone see properly.

She collapsed onto the window seat the instant she unlocked her room. Not the bed. If she lay on the bed, then she would be staring at the ceiling. And she didn't like to think of the memories that would evoke.

Taking a deep breath she tried to process everything that had just happened.

Ok so…this woman, Mississippi, Missouri, whatever the hell her name was had started going on about gifts and demons…So what? That's what psychics were supposed to do. Laura had always said to take everything they said with a pinch of salt and never give too much away.

But the thing was, Ella _hadn't_ given anything away. At all. Missouri had known everything anyway. It was as though Ella had her life story, past, present and future tattooed on her forehead. As Ella filled a glass of water from the sink in the bathroom she realised her hands were shaking. She had not been expecting this. Not at all.

Even on this whim she had had to do with the supernatural, she had only ever anticipated some hand holding, spiritual humming, card reading and a couple of vague comments.

'_Now there's an animal here on the other side, trying to get through. It wants to communicate with you, let you know it's ok. I think it's a… cat?' _

'_I never had a cat.'_

'_What pets did you have then?'_

'_Well, I had a pet rhino when I was four.'_

'_Ah yes, that's what it is. A rhino. I can see it now.' _

She suddenly realised that the only people who would be able to assure her that this whole situation wasn't completely insane were Sam and Dean. And they wouldn't be back for at least another couple of hours.

All she could do now was wait.

* * *

For a long time, Dean kept quiet, biting back the question no matter how much it nagged at him, threatening to voice itself. He said nothing about it as he and Sam drove from farm to farm, questioning people about the cattle mutilations and the mysterious perpetrator. He didn't mention it as they drove through the woods looking for something, anything. He didn't voice his concerns as they inspected a dead deer in the middle of the road, drained of blood, nothing but skin and bones quite literally.

Finally, as they saw the lights of the town in the distance, he spoke up. 'Do you think the kid's ok?'

'Well I don't know Dean, the goat population will be in serious jeopardy at the rate this SOB is killing at.' Sam replied, smirking.

'Very funny.' Dean huffed. 'I meant Ella.'

At this, Sam grinned. 'Wow.'

'What?' Dean asked worriedly.

'Nothing.' Sam shook his head, continuing to grin.

'No, man, what?'

'You've settled into the whole fatherly role better than I thought, that's all.' Sam told him.

'What do you mean?'

'You're worried about her.'

'So?' Dean said defensively. 'Of course I am, we left her all alone for five hours in some weird country town with a goat killer running around. Who knows what could have happened?'

'Dad was leaving us alone for days at a time in weird country towns before you even turned ten.' Sam replied, clearly going along with this point of view for the sake of argument.

'Yeah, but…she's a girl…. She doesn't know what's out there…More importantly, she doesn't have a rifle with her.' As Dean gave up on rationalising he rounded on Sam. 'What's your problem? You don't like the idea that I'm concerned about my daughter?' He demanded.

'Not at all.' Sam assured him. 'I think it's kind of…cute.'

Dean wrinkled his nose at the use of such a word. 'I don't know…' He said gruffly at last. 'She's a good kid. I know it's been less than twenty-four hours and who knows maybe she has a Dr Jekyll side to her but…'

'I like her.' Sam admitted. 'Laura must have been a really great girl.'

Dean smiled. 'Yeah she was.' He was quiet for a few minutes. 'I mean, it's kind of cool.' He said at last. 'After you know, all this time fighting demons and evil spirits it'll be kind of nice to do something normal…You know? Drive her to school…fight over her curfew…threaten all her boyfriends.' He smirked to himself at the thought. 'Yeah I'd be good at that.'

Sam just grinned at him.

* * *

The brothers walked into the inn dining room as the clock hit 7. It was a cavernous room on the bottom floor with cedar-panelled walls and jazz music playing in the background. There were a couple of other guests, eating, drinking and talking quietly while a game of pool went on at the back of the room.

Ella hadn't noticed them yet; she was sitting at a table against a wall, reading.

Sam noticed that his brother visibly brightened as he saw her. 'Hey look geek boy, she's a nerd like you.' Dean whispered a hint of pride in his voice.

The two of them sat down at the table she had reserved.

'Hey.' Dean greeted his daughter.

'Hi Ella.' Sam smiled.

She looked up. 'Hey Dean, hey Sam.' Her voice was casual, a little too casual. Dean knew instantly that something was wrong.

'You ok?'

'Yeah, fine.' She asserted, but she didn't meet his eyes.

The Winchesters exchanged quizzical glances but decided not to press the matter just yet.

'So, you ordered?' Dean asked, picking up the menu.

'No, can't. You gotta go to the bar. I'm under 21.'

'That's nothing a fake ID won't fix.' Dean chuckled. 'Ow! What the hell was that for?'

'I didn't do anything.' Said Ella, looking puzzled.

'No, I know who did.' Dean glared at his brother who attempted to look innocent.

Ella coughed. 'Um…anyway. Did you control those pesky pests?'

'We will.' Dean replied confidently. 'We're kind of having trouble pinpointing what type of pest we're dealing with. But it shouldn't take too long now.'

'Oh, well that's good.' Said Ella politely.

She continued to act strangely as the three of them waited for their meals. Clearly she realised she was being odd and in an effort to seem normal varied her behaviour from chatty and bubbly to silent and anxious.

Finally as the food arrived, Dean unwittingly hit the nail on the head. 'So, what did you do this afternoon? Sex, drugs, rock and roll?'

Ella laughed at this but once more, she did not meet his eyes. 'Um, actually…. I'm glad you asked…' She took a deep breath and raised her head to meet the gaze of both Winchesters, adopting a would-be-casual voice. 'I saw a psychic. And I think she knew you guys.'

Sam frowned. 'What was her name?'

'Um…Missouri.' Ella said vaguely, rushing on. 'But that's not all. It's like she knew….all this stuff….About my mum, about me, about you two. And she said my mum dying wasn't an accident and something about a gift and darkness and defeating the Yellow Eyed Demon. And she said he underestimated me and that he killed your girlfriend, Sam and your mother and….' She trailed off, realising that both brothers were staring at her, dumbfounded. 'But…I mean…it's crazy right? It's…. ridiculous…' Her voice faltered. 'Isn't it?'

'Ella,' Dean began at last.

'Isn't it?' She repeated, hysterically hopeful that Dean would laugh, make some kind of snide, sarcastic remark about seeing a psychic and assure her that everything was ok.

'In a word….' He confessed. 'No.'

Ella gaped at him, wide-eyed. 'W-what do you mean?'

Dean sighed. 'I didn't want to tell you this yet. Ultimately I would have preferred if maybe you never knew and you lived a nice normal life with a house, husband and 2.5 kids.' He paused thoughtfully. 'Actually forget that, I don't want you near any guys. It's a convent for you, missy.' He joked.

Ella didn't say anything.

'The thing is, Ella.' Sam took over, realising at this rate his brother would beat around the bush for at least another hour. 'We're not pest controllers…technically.'

This did not really come as much of a surprise to Ella. 'So…what are you?'

Sam and Dean looked at each other, reaching an unspoken agreement.

'We're hunters.' Dean supplied.

Ella looked horrified.

'Not of animals or anything!' Sam said hurriedly. 'It's a lot weirder and more twisted than that.'

'From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggedy beasties and things that go bump in the night.' Dean tried.

'Good lord deliver us.' Ella finished the Scottish saying for him before prising Dean's beer from him and taking a swig.

'I'll get you one of your own if you want.' Dean offered, only half joking. 'God knows you'll need it to take in what we have to tell you.'

'I think she'll be fine.' Sam cut in.

'Right.' Dean slumped back in his seat.

'So…you hunt ghosts?' Ella prompted.

Dean blinked. 'Right.'

'That's not really the kind of profession a school careers adviser hands out fliers for.'

'It's more of a family business.' Sam explained. 'You see, when I was six months old and Dean was just a kid…there was a fire. Dean pulled me out and Dad made it just in time before the house practically exploded. Mom didn't make it.'

'Now the rest of the town put the whole tragedy down to a fire…a freak electrical fault.' Dean continued. He saw Ella twitch involuntarily. 'But Dad…. He was convinced that something evil had been in the house that night…' He noticed now that his daughter had turned white. 'You want me to keep going?' He asked gently. She nodded mutely.

'From then on he became obsessed with finding and destroying Mom's killer. Not to mention any other evil SOB he happened to come across along the way. And your uncle and I were dragged into it too. We were always moving, Dad'd leave us alone for days at a time…And we'd line the house or motel room or wherever we happened to be staying at the time with salt, I'd have a gun and the two of us would wait for him to come back from his jobs.'

'And he trained us to become hunters too.' Sam chipped in. 'Instead of playing soccer like most normal kids, we'd be learning bow hunting.'

'An important skill.' Dean added quickly.

'Right.' Sam agreed. 'And if it wasn't bow hunting it was karate…or knife throwing, or judo…Memorising ten page Latin exorcisms…I knew how to shoot a gun before I could even tie my own shoe laces.'

' Yeah, when you were sixteen.' Dean smirked.

Ella snorted at this and Sam merely rolled his eyes.

'When we grew older, we would go on hunts with him.' Sam picked up the story again. 'When I was 18, I told Dad that I'd gotten into college.'

'And Dad wouldn't have any of it.' Dean piped up. 'He and Sammy got into this huge fight until Dad said that he could either stay with us or get the hell out. Sammy packed his bags.'

'I liked college.' Sam now seemed to be talking more to himself now than the other two. 'It was so…normal…In comparison to everything I knew before that.'

'So me and Dad left Sammy alone for about two years.' Dean continued the tale. 'Buuut…one day when Dad went on a hunting trip and didn't return for a few days, I drove my ass down to Stamford and got your uncle to help me.'

Ella noticed that at this point Sam had gone quiet, his eyes sad and fixed on the table. Dean too, cast a sidelong look at his brother, his eyes full of empathy and a kind of world-weariness that suggested he would do anything for the younger man sitting beside him.

'We finished the hunt, no sign of Dad but Sammy had an interview on the Monday to do law, so on the Sunday night I dropped him back off to his apartment. His girlfriend, Jessica…'

He didn't need to say anything else, Ella merely nodded, eyes wide as she stared at him, waiting for him to continue. And continue he did, talking till his throat was hoarse (with occasional comments and corrections from Sam), explaining everything and as much as they knew, as well as, how much they _didn't _know.

Their meals were cold and untouched and as the Winchester brothers finally brought Ella up to date with the situation, the clock on the wall was at 9:17pm.

'So…' Dean coughed at last, after taking a long drink of beer. 'Any questions?'

* * *

_Thank you for reading...and you're clicking the review button right about..._now! 


	8. Chapter 8

She was running. Her shrill scream piercing the cold night air. The damp grass soaking through her converse as she tore through the field, the creature in hot pursuit. It was at least fifty metres behind her but she could hear it snarling, breathing heavily and angrily. And she was sure, if she turned around; she would be able to make out its gleaming red eyes in the darkness.

Where were Sam and Dean? What the hell had she been thinking? Why hadn't she just stayed in the warmth and safety of the hotel, curled up in bed watching _Saturday Night Live_ and eating M&Ms?

She skidded down the slope and toward the gate of the property. The Impala was just parked over the other side of the fence. For some reason, she figured that if she could get into the car, she would be safe. This…_thing _wouldn't be able to get her.

She fumbled to open the gate, panic making her clumsy, the barbed wire poking painfully into her wrists, the cold metal slippery under her sweaty palms. _'C'mon! C'mon!' _She thought hysterically, wondering how the hell this was happening to her.

Finally it swung open and she sprinted to the Impala, unlocking it with a flick of the beeper and launching herself into the back seat, locking all the doors behind her.

For a few seconds, she remained in the same position, sprawled painfully across the seat, breathing shallow, body tense, waiting for the thing to strike. Smash through the glass, claws and teeth baring and demonic eyes glinting. But there was nothing.

After a minute had passed, heart pounding, sick to the stomach, her mouth completely dry, Ella slowly sat up, eyes scanning the vicinity.

It was deserted….

Her breathing slowed and she sighed in relief, reaching for her mobile to dial Dean…

A disfigured, monstrous face loomed suddenly in front of the car window and her heart started so severely she felt as though she had been electrified. She was too terrified to scream, paralysed by the creature's strangled hiss as its claws scratched spine chillingly across the exterior of the car.

'Hey!' She heard someone shout out authoritatively.

A shot rang out, simultaneously deafening and scaring the hell out of her. She heard something thud to the ground.

Silence.

Shaking, she dared to peek out the window. The thing was lying motionless, dead, one had to presume. Cautiously, she opened the car door and stepped outside.

A figure was sprinting toward her, bearing a shotgun and clad in jeans and a leather jacket. Dean.

'Dad!' She cried out without thinking, voice choked with relief, it was a wonder she could move her limbs at all but she suddenly found herself running towards him.

There was something about the intensity of his expression as he reached her, the fierce protectiveness, which made her feel as though she would always be safe, when he was around. He would never let anything hurt her.

And as he dropped the gun and drew her into a crushing embrace, cursing about 16 year old daughters being too stubborn for their own good: she finally knew what it felt like to have a father.

* * *

_Three Days Earlier_

At around 9:30, Sam had excused himself from the dining room, murmuring something about needing to check his e-mail. Ella smiled slightly as she watched him try to make his 6 foot 4 frame as inconspicuous as possible as he disappeared upstairs.

As she returned her attention to her stone cold spaghetti she could feel Dean's eyes on her, waiting expectantly for something…anything…

Slowly, she raised her eyes to meet his.

'So, what do you think?' He asked carefully at last. 'You want to dial the crazy house yet? Get a kangaroo to take you back down under?'

She smiled faintly at him, propping up her chin with her hands as she simply looked at him.

Dean stared back, earnestly, for some reason, he desperately wanted her approval. He wanted her to be ok with it all though God knew at times even _he _wasn't ok with this life. It was almost selfish of him. He wouldn't wish this life on anyone but at the same time he didn't want this girl, his daughter to walk away just yet. He couldn't place his finger on why.

'For a start,' Ella began finally. 'It would have to be genetically enhanced kangaroo in order for it to fit me in its pouch, and travel across several continents.'

'Ah c'mon, you're pretty tiny.' Dean's face relaxed into a grin.

'How many five foot three joeys do you see hanging around?' Ella asked, a laugh in her voice.

'There's gotta be a few of them lurking about the place.' Dean quipped.

'Oh yeah, they must live in the same magical land as unicorns, the tooth fairy and virginal starlets like Paris Hilton and Britney Spears.'

'Touche.' Dean remarked. 'However I for one believed Britney when she said that she never slept with Justin.'

'Oh please, she was bringing sexy back for him way before she was crying him a river.' Scoffed Ella.

The two of them grinned but as they locked eyes once more, their grins faded and the bizarreness of the situation set in.

An awkward silence ensued.

'It's weird…' Ella began, dropping her gaze as she mindlessly sifted through the mountains of untouched pasta with her fork. 'It shouldn't make sense…I mean, logically, I _know _it doesn't. It's freaking crazy. But for some reason…I get it…I understand…'

Dean nodded solemnly, regarding her carefully.

'Besides,' the girl continued a catch in her voice. 'It's the best explanation anyone's come up with so far about how mum died.' She shifted uncomfortably and Dean was almost embarrassed to see the tears in her eyes. 'Throwing a hissy fit and calling the cops isn't going to bring her back. And if I go back to Australia, there's no one there for me….' She met his gaze, jaw set determinedly. 'You're the only family I've got. And I'm not going to let some son of a bitch freaky supernatural creature get away with killing anybody else if I can help it. If I have _'the gift'_, whether it be a Myer gift card or some kind of _power…_If I can _use it_ to help you guys, that's what I want to do…I'm not saying I'm not scared. Because I am…but…it sounds like this demon doesn't really give a stuff whether I'm scared or not.'

She took a sip of her drink and looked up at him, blushing sheepishly. 'I'm sorry, that was a bit of a chick flick speech wasn't it? Little Orphan Annie crossed with Buffy the Vampire Slayer? I'm sorry.'

Dean threw his head back and laughed, amazed at the creature sitting across from him. 'Kid, you truly are a Winchester.' He declared proudly.

* * *

The next day found the Winchester brothers beginning to introduce Ella Black to the dangerous world that was hunting.

'Ok,' said Sam, opening the boot of the Impala, a curious Ella hovering behind him. 'Let's see what we have here.' He unlocked a metallic silver coloured case to reveal a greatly varied selection of knives, daggers and rapiers.

He turned expectantly to his niece gaping at the trunk, a look of horror mingled with fascination in her face. 'Oh my God! How do you guys even cross borders with this stuff in here? This is _beyond _creepy, you realise.'

'Trust me, I realise.' Sam smiled. Ella couldn't help but smile back. She'd known him for less than three days but there was something so pure and sweet about Sam's demeanour, despite everything he'd been through, that made you like him, love him even, instantly.

'What else have you got in here?' Ella asked.

'Um…let me see…' Sam rummaged through the boot. 'We've got your shot guns…your rope, your fake Ids and a drama department's worth of costumes…oh, and your rock salt, gotta love the rock salt. It repels spirits, so keep that in mind.'

'So you're not really a sodium junkie?' Ella grinned.

Sam's brow furrowed until comprehension dawned on him and he laughed self-consciously. 'Oh, no, not really.'

'Hey Mary Kate and Ashley, look what I've brought.' Dean announced, striding towards them, bearing plastic bags from the General store.

'Food!' Ella cried happily, clapping her hands delightedly.

'Ok…I have a salad for Nicole Richie.' Dean handed the container to his daughter, who rolled her eyes. 'A steak sandwich for Kirstie Alley.' He smirked as his brother hit him. 'And a burger for Brad Pitt.'

The three of them sat down at the only picnic table in the park and proceeded to eat. For the past several hours they'd taken turns interviewing locals about this mysterious goat killer. Sam and Ella had gone to the library to research any local lore but had so far found nothing. Dean had also been unsuccessful, not only in shedding any light on the case but also in gaining the blond bubbly police officer's phone number.

Now the three of them had met for lunch at a peaceful, pretty park with a fountain and perfectly pruned flowerbeds. Dean had argued that in order to maintain his manliness, they should eat in a car park somewhere, but Ella had decided that blaring the Village People's 'Macho Man' from the Impala's speaker would be enough to fulfil Dean's 'Manly' quota for the day. And so a humiliated Dean had given in.

'You know, I have no idea how you guys eat all this crap everyday…' Ella said thoughtfully, gesturing to the food the two men were devouring.

'Hunting evil spirits is a fantastic calorie burner.' Sam said wryly.

'I just have an amazing metabolism.' Dean boasted. 'I mean, look at this figure.'

'Take it easy macho man, don't get too manly for your own good.' His daughter smirked. 'What are you going to brag about next? How good your manicurist is?'

Sam almost choked with laughter. 'I love you Ella, you're like the comeback I never had.'

'Hey, kid, you should be on my side. _I'm _the one who helped bring you into this world.' Dean said, wounded.

'Let's not get into detail here.' Sam grimaced.

'I for one am in agreement with that statement.' Ella piped up, stabbing a piece of lettuce with her plastic fork.

Dean chuckled sinisterly. 'Just wait until your 21st '

* * *

The rest of that day was also fruitless in regards to discovering anything new about the job. While Sam had driven through the forests hoping to come across the mysterious killer, Dean had taught Ella how to load and shoot a shot gun filled with rock salt. He'd gone overboard in reassuring her that it didn't matter if she completely sucked but had been over the moon when Ella turned out to be a natural. In fact, he'd bragged about it to Sam the whole way back to the motel.

Now it was past 10pm and Ella was curled up in a chair using Sam's laptop to check her e-mails.

Sam was on the phone to Bobby trying to shed light on the mystery killer while Dean was downstairs playing pool with a number of other guests in an effort to win enough cash to tide them over for the next couple of weeks.

Ella had been somewhat perturbed, as the complete illegalness of the lifestyle her father and uncle seemed so comfortable in, fully sunk in. Although Dean had teased how anxious she was when he paid for petrol for the Impala with a fake credit card, Sam seemed to understand how she felt.

Indeed, when Dean had invited Ella to come down to the gaming room with him, telling her he'd teach her how to cheat any idiot gambler out of half a grand in ten minutes, Sam had point blank refused to let Ella leave the room, giving Dean so stern a look that the older Winchester had quickly retreated.

Ella had smiled gratefully and he'd merely grinned knowingly, waving his hand dismissively.

Ella had a couple of e-mails from her friends back in Australia. All were chatty and polite, mentioning various antics that had occurred back at her old high school, complaining about homework and other such mundane things that once she too would have cared about.

She also couldn't help but noticing how stilted and impersonal most of the e-mails were. As though none of her friends were quite sure how to behave toward her. None of them had changed, but maybe she had. It had been almost three weeks since her mother's death but already she felt so far removed and isolated from the girls she had grown up with. And it wasn't just the geographical long distance thing. It was sad. She recognised that. But at the same time she felt oddly detached from the situation.

'Ok, thanks Bobby. Give me a call if you find anything.' Sam hung up with a sigh, smiling distractedly as Ella caught his eye.

'Any luck?' She questioned, closing the Hotmail window on the screen.

Sam shook his head. 'I think we might have hit a dead end.'

'Have you Googled 'goat killer' on the net?' Ella questioned smirking.

'You can try it if you want.' Sam called vaguely, now pulling a number of heavy books from his bag and slamming them onto the desk.

Despite the fact that she hadn't been serious, Ella proceeded to do just this.

Eyebrows raised, she clicked on the first entry that came up. 'Well I've found something about a goat called Snowball killing it's owner by head butting him in the stomach.' She said, reading the site. 'So it's a goat that's a killer, but it doesn't _kill goats.' _(A/N I actually found this site)

Abandoning his books, Sam came to stand behind her, reading the tale about the 77 year old retired poultry worker from Georgia and his 110 pound goat. 'That's hilarious.' He commented. At the same time, Dean entered the room grim faced and determined.

'You lose out?' Ella queried, puzzled at the uncharacteristically stormy expression.

'Nah, I gypped a couple of losers out of eight hundred bucks.' Her father responded, looking briefly proud of himself. 'But I heard a couple of local cops talking down at the bar just then. Seems that farmer we spoke to yesterday, Darren Birmingham,'

Sam looked at him quizzically. 'What?'

'Well, he's been found dead.'

* * *

_Ok well, because of it's length, this chapter has been split into two. The next one will continue the flashback before returning to the action that occurs at the start of this one. Now that it's school holidays, hopefully I'll have much more chance to right. But just so you know guys, most of my writing for each chapter usually happens straight after I get reviews for the previous one because it motivates me sooo much. So, if you want to know what happens, keep those reviews coming!_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

_Hey kiddies, I am soo sorry this chapter has taken forever. But if it helps, it's longer than my extended essay was. Though I'm sorry to say it turns out finishing this flashback was too long for one chapter. I swear I'll finish it up half way through the next one which will hopefully be posted soon... If you're in Year 12 you'll understand that my definition of 'soon' can be a little ridiculous by normal standards. But I'll try my best. In the mean time, I hope this is all right!_

* * *

The sky was tinged with a pink and grey pre-dawn glow as the Impala drove along the winding road through the green countryside toward the Birmingham farm.

Curled up in the leather interior of the back seat, Ella stifled a yawn, wiping her eyes blearily as she gazed out the window, Dean's leather jacket wrapped around her in an effort to stay warm as the Impala's air conditioning struggled to warm up.

'Actually Sam, could I please take that coffee now?' She spoke up.

'Sure.'

'Thanks.'

'So remind me again what we think this thing is?' Dean asked Sam presently.

'Ok well, it never occurred to me to even think about it but when Ella typed in goat killer it reminded me…' Sam clicked open a window on the lap top resting on his knees.

'It's called a chupacabra, which is Spanish for goatsucker. I guess that explains the drained blood and the bizarre goat fetish. Umm…reports of this thing first originated in the late 80s in Puerto Rico. But since then eyewitness sightings have cropped up in Peru, Russia, Bolivia, even San Antonio and Maine. It's said to feed on cattle, turkeys, ducks, sheep, horses, but their specialty is obviously goats. Now, no two eyewitness reports can agree on the same physical description. Some say the thing looks like a cross between a kangaroo and a hairless dog ('Intimidating.' Dean remarked.) While others claim it's more of a reptilian creature, sometimes with wings but normally with fangs and eyes that glow red, inducing nausea and disorientation in their victims.'

'Any reports of these things killing humans?' Dean questioned.

'Nope, not as far as I'm aware.'

'Huh…' Dean frowned thoughtfully. 'It all sounds kind of dodgy if you ask me. What urban legends that came out of the 80's actually turn out to be true?'

'Michael Jackson's plastic surgery?' Ella suggested quietly.

Dean smirked.

'To be honest, I have to agree.' Sam said, brushing his hair out of his eyes. 'It seems like a massive hoax. I mean this 'thesis' by some guy called Bob Buck notes that most chupacabra sightings are associated with supposed UFO activity. One woman in Canovanas supposedly saw a UFO drop a box into a rainforest filled with the things, weeks later over 3000 sheep had been killed….But how much credibility can be given to descriptions of a creature that looks like a cross between a vampire and a marauding furry lizard?'

'Marauding furry lizard?' Dean repeated with a laugh in his voice. 'What a joke.'

Sam nodded but a second later frowned, leaning closer toward the screen of the computer. 'Huh…' He said after a moment.

'What is it?' Ella questioned.

Sam finished reading the entry before replying. 'This site actually connects the more frightening description of the chupacabra with the legend of the Jersey devil.'

'18th century woman called Deborah Smith's jackass husband Mr. Leeds wants a number of heirs to continue the family tradition, and so gets his wife pregnant successively with 12 children?' Dean said promptly.

'Right, and when the wife discovers she's pregnant with kid number 13, she declares she'd rather have the devil's son than another of Leeds' heirs: cursing the unborn child.' Sam continued. 'And when the child is born…'

'The wife gets her wish…When the kid is born it has wings, glowing red eyes, cloven hooves and walks on it's hind legs.' Dean supplied.

'And proceeds to eat the other 12 Leeds children before escaping out the chimney and haunting Pine Barrens, functioning as the scapegoat for hundreds of livestock deaths over the next couple of centuries.' Sam finished, catching Ella's look of disgust in the rear view mirror.

'That's all well and good, Sammy, but first of all we're nowhere near New Jersey and secondly, even if this thing _did_ have a connection somehow with Birmingham: supposedly all of Deborah Leeds' descendants died when the jersey devil chowed down on them so the whole 'hunting down the last of the family line' thing is kind of redundant.'

'Maybe not.' Sam contradicted. 'It says here that an article published in the New York Times in 1998 claimed Deborah Leeds had descendants still surviving in Atlantic County in New Jersey.'

'Once again, Sammy, we're nowhere near New Jersey.' Dean told him.

Sam shrugged, unconvinced. 'You never know.'

The Impala pulled up at the bottom of the hill of the Birmingham farm and came to a halt, the car engine rumbling until Dean yanked out the key. The Winchesters got out of the car, Ella trailing behind them, clutching her coffee. 'Are you guys sure this is…I don't know…legal? Going into a crime scene?'

Sam and Dean looked at each other. 'Nope.' They said simultaneously.

Ella's brow furrowed. Dean held the gate open for her, looking at her expectantly.

'Ok.' She said at last, following them into the property. The three of them trudged up the hill, the dew sodden grass soaking through their shoes. The dog that had greeted the brothers the day before was nowhere to be seen and the air had all the muffled stillness of what remained of the night.

They reached the house, which had been amateurishly roped off with yellow tape by the local police. Dean pushed it aside dismissively before proceeding to kick down the front door. It was more than likely the door was already unlocked, but who was he to decline a chance to show off?

The rooms of the cottage were in complete chaos. Clearly, Birmingham hadn't given up without a fight. And what a fight it must have been. The screen of the small television in the living room had been smashed to pieces. The broken china of a vase littering their path like a minefield. Everywhere, furniture was upturned, the coverings torn to shreds.

'Je-sus.' Dean let out a low whistle as he began to tread carefully throughout the rest of the house. Unconsciously he placed a protective hand on Ella's back, she looked up in confusion and he withdrew it quickly.

Long scratches dragged along the wall ending at the doorway to the kitchen, complimented by a smear of dark blood.

'You wanna wait in the car?' Sam asked Ella in a low voice, seeing her flinch. She bit her lip, looking undecided before squaring her shoulders and shaking her head determinedly.

It was clear that it was in the kitchen that the murder had taken place. A chalk outline, stained with blood, was drawn near the back door. Ella felt somewhat queasy as she imagined the farmer fumbling with the lock, trying to escape the monster. He had never made it…

Sam was frowning, examining the locked windows. 'Ok, so if the front door was locked, the thing escaped out the back and the windows were closed…how did it…?'

'Dude.'

Sam looked over to where Dean was pointing. Cloven foot prints trailed through the ash spilling from the fireplace.

'The chimney?' Ella raised her eyebrows as she made the connection between the story and the sight in front of them.

'Kind of like a really freaky Santa Claus.' Dean commented.

'Ho ho ho.' Said Sam drily. He dusted a substance on the kitchen counter with his fingers, scrutinising it carefully. 'Sulfur.'

'Huh…'

Stepping over the chalk outline, Dean went to investigate the back of the property. Ella was more than eager to leave the dark gloom of the house and quickly followed.

'Check it out.' Sam strode over to a rusty pick up truck, Dean and Ella at his heels. 'The number plate.'

'Atlantic county, New Jersey.' Dean observed. 'Nice going, Sammy.'

Sam nodded at the acknowledgment, as the three of them rounded the corner, heading toward the barn.

'Oh my God!' Ella gasped.

Lying on the ground at their feet was the corpse of a very dead dog. Sam and Dean recognised it instantly as their friend from the day before, although sans any blood or internal organs. All that remained was a limp furry carcass.

By now Ella had turned away, unable to comprehend quite how her father and uncle managed to be so detached as they inspected the poor creature. Concentrating on not throwing up, it was Ella who first saw the man heading towards them.

'Guys.' She coughed.

The Winchesters snapped to attention.

There was nowhere for them to hide. It wouldn't have mattered if there were. The man had seen them and was now angrily calling out to them.

'What the hell do you think you're doing here?' He demanded, marching towards them.

'Morning friend.' Dean greeted easily. 'I'm Roger, this is my brother Jim and my daughter Betsy Lou.'

Sam and Ella glared at their brother and father respectively before smiling sweetly.

'We're uh- neighbours.' Sam offered quickly as Dean shoved him (his own expertise at improvisation running dry.) 'We came to offer our condolences…and see if there's anything we can do to help.'

The man looked at the three of them suspiciously. Dean smiled charmingly, Sam had his infamously innocent puppy dog eyes while Ella thanked the Lord that in her deluded tiredness this morning, she had tied her hair in plaits and proceeded to twirl them as angelically and subtly as possible.

Somehow it worked. It shouldn't have. But it did.

'I shouldn't have yelled before…It's been a difficult time for us all.' Said the man, sighing heavily as he stretched out a weathered hand. Sam and Dean shook it. 'The name's John, Darren was my brother in law. My sister, his wife, was staying in town with us when the police called us…Terrible shock…I've just driven her here to go through Darren's things.'

As if on cue, a woman came around the corner. The Winchesters and Ella had to conceal their surprise. While Birmingham had been a man in his late forties, his wife would have been lucky to be 30. Blond, attractive and well dressed she was also heavily pregnant.

'Christine.' John turned around warily, following the line of their gazes. 'You should have stayed in the car.'

Christine ignored him, her eyes settling on the two brothers, as she looked them up and down in what could only be considered an appreciative way.

'Mrs Birmingham.' Dean stepped forward. 'I'm very sorry for your loss. If there's anything my family and I can do for you…'

'Please…' said the woman, her eyes flickering at 'Mrs Birmingham'. ' I prefer Ms Marlowe…I go by my maiden name…'

Ella and Sam exchanged slightly troubled glances at these words. Dean's expression remained neutral.

'Anyway, guys, my sister and I should…' John trailed off awkwardly, clearly more than aware of the impropriety of the way Christine was behaving, particularly as her gaze continued to linger on the two brothers in an almost predatory manner.

'Of course, of course.' Dean said. 'We should be returning to our farm…Our cows won't milk themselves after all, right, Roger? Betsy Lou?'

'Right, Paw.' Said Ella brightly.

'This is my cell number,' said Sam after hesitating a moment, taking out a pen and scribbling a number down on the back of a receipt he had found in his pocket. 'If either of you need anything, call us.'

The three of them nodded at John and his sister before walking around the side of the house, trooping down the hill toward the Impala.

'Ok well _that _was creepy on multiple levels.' Ella burst out as soon as she was sure they were out of earshot.

'Dude, the pregnant lady was totally checking me out.' Dean remarked.

'She was giving you _both _the eyeball.' Grinned Ella.

'Yeah, but it was a pity eyeball with Sammy, clearly I'm the more handsome of the two of us.'

'Real mature, Dean.'

'Thank you.'

'And what was with you calling me Betsy Lou? What am I? The love child of Atticus Finch and Cindy Lou Who??' Ella demanded.

'Not my fault you don't have a number of false identities for me to draw upon at a moment's notice.' Her father retorted.

'Ok well,' Sam said, rolling is eyes, as if continuing a conversation they had been having previously. 'Clearly, there's something up with this Birmingham guy. Something more than meets the eye. I mean a trophy wife on a farm?'

'But she wasn't at the farm at the time, was she?' Ella reminded.

'Yeah, well, as a married couple, that's kinda odd in itself.' Said Dean.

'Exactly.'

* * *

When they reached the motel it was only just breakfast time. However, after the events of the morning, none of them were particularly hungry.

'So what now?' Ella questioned as the three of them stood in the lobby.

'Well, um,' Dean ran his hand through his hair before pulling out his wallet and digging out a wad of bills. ' Here, take this. I think there's a general store a couple of streets away. If you just hang around here, you know, watch pay-per- view, braid your hair and wear a mud mask, Sammy and I should be back by…' He looked up to see Ella gaping at him in indignation, hands on her hips. 'What?'

Ella made a noise of frustration in the back of her throat, irritated further by the fact that Dean had the grace to look confused at her reaction.

'Braid my hair?' She repeated incredulously. 'Mud masks? What do you think I am, a sorority girl?'

'No.' Dean said immediately, glancing at his brother as if to say 'What the hell?'

(Sam merely rubbed the back of his neck self consciously, looking away politely as he pretended to be extremely interested in the wallpaper.)

'Oh really?' Ella asked scornfully. 'I can't believe you wake me up at the crack of dawn to break into a crime scene and then just bring me back here to _dump_ me!'

(A family checking out of the hotel looked at the two of them curiously.)

'Ella, this isn't a game you know, this is a serious investigation.' Dean snapped, firing up at her stubbornness for reasons that were inexplicable even to him…Was it perhaps because she reminded him so much of himself when his own father had refused to let him accompany him on hunting trips?

'I'm not a little girl!' Ella retorted, although realising that perhaps the way she was arguing might cause her to come across as such. 'I could help!'

'You could help, huh? How? You know how to get into morgues and access classified records, do you? You know how to hunt demons?' Dean demanded.

Ella lowered her eyes. 'No.' She muttered, feeling five years old.

'Exactly.' Said Dean briskly, shoving his hands in his pockets and heading toward the door. 'Sam? You comin'?'

'Uh yeah…' Sam looked torn between offering words of sympathy to Ella and following his brother.

'Sam?' Dean repeated impatiently.

'Coming.'

Ella was left alone standing in the lobby, arms crossed, annoyance coursing through her. She was being stupid: she knew it. She felt ridiculously childish yet the injustice of the situation was, to her, as blatantly obvious as Dean's rationality and irritating fatherly protectiveness.

In theory, she knew why he had refused to let her accompany them. It would be stupid for her to think she was even _beginning_ to comprehend hunting. Just because she'd been let in on their secret, helped look up a couple of things in the library and learnt how to load and shoot a gun didn't mean that she would be anything but a burden in the field…_In the field? _As if she knew technical terms! As if _anyone _should know technical terms about _ghost hunting._

Shaking her head in disbelief she left the lobby and headed to her room.

Maybe it wasn't so much she was annoyed at _why _Dean had forbade her to come with them, she mused broodingly as she decided she would have breakfast after all. (She got a kick out of room service.) But the fact that he had had authority with her in the first place.

Not that Ella was some hardcore, bad ass rebellious little brat. She wasn't. She was a good girl. Before the fire, she'd been voted a prefect at school…Of course she'd never been inducted. She'd boarded the plane to the US the day school returned from holidays. But she'd never had a 'father figure' in her life. It had always been Ella and Laura. Just the two of them. It wasn't a real-life version of _Gilmore Girls _or anything. She was no Bambi-eyed Rory although she often suspected her mother was something of a Lorelai. Laura had had a couple of boyfriends and Ella had liked all of them. But they'd never been fatherly, they were simply friends. That was really how she'd assumed it was going to be with Dean too. The first night she'd met him she'd come to the conclusion that it would be a friendship rather than a father daughter relationship. Evidently she'd misjudged how much a priority Dean Winchester put on family.

Family. It was a funny word. Not one that she was particularly fond of after hearing the words 'no living relatives' and 'without family' bandied about at least a hundred times after the fire. Laura had been her family for the first sixteen years of her life. And now it seemed that Sam and Dean would be her family.

A trace of a smirk crossed her face. A family of demon hunters? Man, she sure knew how to pick them.

* * *

Dean had made it clear that no conversation was to take place in which the words 'Ella' 'Parenting' 'A little harsh' and 'what's best for her' were used in abundance.

Nonetheless, Sam couldn't resist bringing it up.

'So…that went well.' He began after respectfully letting Dean listen in silence to three Blue Oyster Cult tracks.

'Yeah, for an audition for the Maury Povich show.' Dean replied moodily.

'But dude, you _are _the father.' Sam grinned in spite of himself, inwardly realising that the amount of trashy TV they watched in their time off was not exactly healthy.

Dean made a particularly rude hand gesture at his brother before saying 'It's for her own good, she can be as pissed at me as she wants, but there is no way I'm letting her get more mixed up in this than she has to be. Dumping her might seem irresponsible but it's sure as hell better than the alternative…'

'We've let people a lot less capable than her become involved in a case.' Sam pointed out.

'Yeah but usually it's something personal for them. Closure. So they can see it with their own eyes.' Clarified Dean matter of factly.

'But maybe-'

'Sam.' Dean said warningly. 'Drop it.'

'Ok.' Sam agreed, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. No further conversation was made as the brothers drove to the county morgue (A rather morbid destination)and so Dean was left to stew in his own thoughts.

Why was he so against Ella helping them? It was almost hypocritical, he knew that. He hadn't been able to get the grin off his face when she'd loaded the shotgun almost effortlessly the day before and he'd found himself feeling ridiculously proud when she had offered to help Sam research at the library. In so many ways it had been so important to him that she accepted this way of life. But in other ways he just wanted to get her as far away from it as was actually possible.

She should live a normal life. She deserved that, as unlikely as such a life was beginning to seem. Hunting was in her blood and if she got a taste of it…Well she could kiss college, a husband and any sense of security goodbye and welcome a life of the unpredictable, the unexplained, being a fugitive and a steady diet of take away and food from gas stations. It was something he shouldn't be wishing on anybody….so why did Dean find himself thinking (with a strange mixture of dread and pride) that Ella could handle it? The glint in her eye when she had protested against being abandoned and the stubbornness in her stance had scared the hell out of him, had made him want to protect her. Be cruel to be kind. But maybe it was simply a struggle against the inevitable?

* * *

After a trip to the general store (chocolate after all, cures anything especially boredom, loneliness and frustration) Ella hung around her room for the next several hours. Watching TV, reading, eating and listening to her I-pod.

It was late in the afternoon and she had just started on an enormous bag of M&Ms when the door opened.

'Hey.' Dean greeted as she looked up from the TV.

'Hey…' She said cautiously, uncertain as to whether or not he was mad at her.

'Hoeing into the M&Ms huh?' He grinned, making it clear that they were at a truce for the time being. 'They'd better be peanut.'

She shook her head. 'Mixed bag.' She offered it to him and, not one to say no to food, Dean took a generous handful.

'So where's Sam?' She asked after the two of them had chewed in contemplative silence for a moment.

'Getting his nails done.' Dean replied smirking at his own joke.

Ella gave him a funny look before remarking flippantly. 'You know when I first saw you two I thought you could be a gay couple.'

Dean choked on his M&Ms. 'Why do people always think that??!' He exclaimed defensively.

'Well you _are _kind of butch.' She told him, grinning. 'You could be overcompensating. You know the macho one, and you said only seconds ago that Sam was getting a manicure.'

'What's this about manicures?'

Father and daughter turned to see Sam, and both cracked into identical smirks. 'Nothing.' They chorused innocently.

Sam raised his eyebrows suspiciously but chose not to comment.

'So, what've you got?' Dean straightened up, quick to change the subject.

'Well, I talked to Bobby,' Sam brushed the hair out of his eyes unconsciously. 'And he said that a silver bullet to the heart should do the trick. It might be called a demon but because it's not in spirit form or possessing anyone, a bullet should be all we need to waste it.'

'Awesome.' Said Dean briskly, crossing to a trunk at the edge of his bed and pulling out a revolver, which he loaded with impressive easiness.

'So you think it's definitely the Jersey devil or whatever it's called?'

'Yep.' Dean confirmed absent-mindedly. 'It's trying to finish the last of the Leeds line. It got good old Darren last night and now it's after the trophy wife's future kid.'

'How come it's taken the thing this long to finish the family line?' Ella went on curiously.

At this point Dean realised it was his daughter who was questioning him and, remembering his stance on not getting her involved, fixed her with a Look.

'What?' She asked defensively. 'I'm allowed to ask questions aren't I?'

Dean opened his mouth as if to argue then merely shrugged, thinking better of it.

'Well I've been doing some digging,' Sam took over filling Ella in as his brother muttered something about food and sauntered out of the room. 'Piecing together sightings and cross referencing them with where the Leeds descendants have been known to live. Turns out the eldest son escaped that night and left Pine Barrens for good, changing his name. Over time he relaxed, as the Jersey Devil didn't show up, but the day before his wife went into labour- the thing showed up.' Ella's eyes widened. 'It came down the chimney but he shot at it and it vanished. Although after that it left them alone, at night on his way home from work he would see it roaming the fields, watching him. Eventually the baby boy grew up, moved away and married.'

'And I'm guessing a similar pattern occurred?'

Sam nodded grimly. 'Except this time it was twins. The thing killed one but the other survived and lived to move away, marry and get his wife pregnant. The pattern has gone on since then- but it's never killed all the children born in a single generation. It'll get a few when they're first born, some years later, but one always lives to keep the family line going.'

'And this time…might be different?'

'Darren Birmingham was an only child. He ran a business in Atlantic County and from what I can tell, never had children because he figured if he died childless, the curse of the Jersey Devil would cease to plague his family. He married Christine Marlowe- Miss Atlantic County and a model for every perverted men's magazine in the U.S. She was after his money and didn't want to lose her looks by having children so the marriage was convenient for both of them. Until about nine months ago, when Christine found out she was pregnant.'

'I can't imagine that went too well.'

'Birmingham freaked out. He packed up and left Atlantic County, buying an old farmhouse in a little place called Goldstone. For financial reasons, Christine refused to divorce him no matter how much he begged her. In the end they compromised, she agreed to live with her brother until the baby was born while Birmingham shut himself up on his farm, praying that their separation would be enough and that the jersey devil would be satisfied in just finishing him off and not going after the baby.'

'He knew it was coming for him?' Ella whispered.

'We think so. That'd explain why he refused to give us any details when we talked to him yesterday. He knew it would come for him eventually…he might have shot at it the first time out of fear but he knew the thing would keep trying until it killed him.'

'But you think it will come for the baby?' asked Ella, horrified.

'We can't take any chances. You saw her, Christine seriously looked like she was going to give birth any minute. Dean talked to her brother and he said the two of them are staying at a cabin on the property for the night to sort out the will. We think it will come tonight.' Sam glanced at the sun that was now beginning to set in the sky. 'And when it does,' He went on. 'We'll be ready for it.'

* * *

_Cue dramatic music! Actually, cue reviews. I don't mean to be one of those whiny fan fic writers but if I get over twenty reviews for this chapter I swear the next one will be up sooner. I promise!_

_Lots of love Butterfly Dreamer_


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The atmosphere as they ate the food Dean had brought back from his wanderings was tense, an air of expectancy about it. It was, to use a cliché, the calm before the storm.

Neither Sam nor Dean spoke. Ella had a feeling they were communicating silently to each other over her head, finalising plans they had perhaps prepared earlier and were not willing to express in front of her.

She did not try to interfere. She didn't want to be a pest and instead settled for staring out the window as she picked at her burger. Darkness was now casting its shadows over the town. She had no doubt that at the farm, stars were beginning to emerge in the inky sky, shining over the house where Christine and her brother dwelled- perhaps eating dinner and watching television- oblivious to the danger that had been swelling at a rate to match Christine's growing belly. She wondered what would/could/should have happened if Dean and Sam had not caught wind of the situation. Would their deaths become more statistics, added to a never-ending list of unsolved murders? How many such deaths were the result of forces that weren't human?

The sound of Sam's phone cut shrilly through the silence, scaring the life out of her. Her head snapped up to see Sam snatch his cell from his pocket.

'John. Is everything ok?' At the mention of Birmingham's brother in law, Dean and Ella stared anxiously at Sam, trying to glean from his concerned expression what exactly the matter was. 'Ok, ok, calm down.' The younger Winchester nodded curtly and at once Dean sprang to his feet and strode to the trunk at the foot of his bed- taking a revolver for himself before tossing one to Sam, which he caught with an impressive ease. 'Uh huh, my brother and I will be right there.' As he listened to Marlowe's response to this, he glanced from Ella to Dean then to Ella again. 'Of course. Yeah. Hold on, we'll be right over.'

He terminated the call and was halfway to the door before he had even finished putting his phone away. 'Dean, we have to go.' He announced shortly. 'Christine's in labour.'

Dean cursed. 'Well that's convenient.' He shrugged on his leather jacket before turning to Ella. 'Lock the door.' He ordered. 'There's a shotgun under my bed, keep your phone on and I'll call you when-

'Dean, Ella has to come.' Said Sam quickly, as though the faster he said it, the less angry Dean would be able to become.

Winchester and daughter turned to him simultaneously. '_What_?'

'John's wigging out about the whole thing. He thinks having a female presence around will help calm Christine down. You know the whole sisterhood thing.' Sam clarified as Dean looked at him as though he was speaking Mandarin. 'Solidarity.'

'Is he insane?' Dean hissed. 'No way, no freaking way.'

'Dean, I don't think we have a way out of this. John doesn't know about the whole supernatural being coming to kill his future nephew or niece and we don't want to panic him or his sister more than necessary. The fact of the matter is, that woman's about to give birth and jersey devil or no jersey devil, she needs someone with her.' As Dean continued to look stubborn, his younger brother went on, looking for a way to make his brother see the light. 'Do _you _want to be the one with her while she has her kid?'

'No.'

'Then-

'Wait, do I get any say in this matter at all?' Ella spoke up, her voice edged with panic. 'You know, not all women are born with innate midwifery instincts. I was an only child, I didn't even have a Baby Born!'

'A what?' asked Dean.

'Never mind.'

'Guys, we don't have time for this.' Sam interrupted. 'In case you've forgotten, Marlowe thinks we live next door and we're fifteen miles away. If I was that devil, I'd say now would be an excellent time to close in.'

'Good point.' Dean realised. 'Ella come on, I like this even less than you do, but at this stage, I can't see another alternative.'

'Fine.' Ella seized her jacket, following the Winchesters out of the room. How odd, that only hours ago she would have given anything to be part of the team yet now all she wanted to do was curl up on the bed and watch television.

* * *

With Dean's foot jammed on the accelerator of the Impala for the majority of the journey, the three of them arrived at the farm in record breaking time. Parking the car at the foot of the hill in front of the gate, the three of them jumped out, walking headfirst into what could potentially be a life or death situation.

The main house was dark, as they strode up the damp grassy hill and for a brief second Ella wondered if they were too late. But several metres behind it was a well-lit cabin. The three of them broke into a run.

John answered the door before Sam had a chance to knock twice. 'Jim, Roger, thank God.'

The Winchesters exchanged confused glances before remembering their rather nondescript pseudonyms.

The cabin itself was tiny, with wood panelling and minimal decoration. 'What took you so long?' Questioned John as he gestured for them to step inside. 'I was almost going to drive next door and pick you up myself.'

'Uh, yeah, sorry about that…Betsy Lou was washing her hair.'

If John had been paying close attention he would have noticed that in fact Ella's hair was completely dry, but as it was he had more important things on his mind.

'So, is there anything we can do to help?' Asked Sam earnestly as the four of them assembled in a rather basic looking kitchen. 'How's Christine?'

'She's fine, for now, she's in the bedroom down the hall.' John rubbed his forehead as though trying to smooth the frown lines the unwanted stress of the past few days had caused. 'There's no hospital within a three hour drive and the local doctor is stranded on the other side of the county on a house call. Apparently his car broke down. I'd drive over and pick him up myself but I don't want to leave Christine, so I was wondering-

'Look, here's a thought.' Interrupted Dean hastily, seeing a window of opportunity to get at least one Marlowe out of harm's way. 'Why don't you do that and the three of us will stay with your sister?'

'But-

'She'll be in good hands, John, my brother's studying to be a midwife.'

'Midhusband.' Ella improvised quickly as Sam looked mutinous.

John continued to look unconvinced. Ella could not blame him. Dean and Sam locked gazes quickly before Dean nodded. It was time for Sam to activate the puppy dog eyes.

'Mr Marlowe, I know this is a very difficult time for you,' He began empathetically. 'But you have to trust us. I promise your sister is in good hands. The sooner you leave, the sooner you can be with her.'

As if on cue, a moan of pain came from down the hall. The four in the kitchen froze in panic for varying reasons.

'Look, go.' Dean urged, snatching up the keys and wallet on the kitchen bench and tossing them to the older man.

As Sam and Ella dashed down the hallway to check up on Christine, Dean walked John to his car, opening the front gate and waving as reassuringly as he could as the vehicle drove off into the distance.

He had begun the calf-straining trek up the hill when he saw a sudden movement in the darkness out of the corner of his eye. His heart skipped a beat, and he drew the revolver from his jacket. Everything was still.

Then, without warning, a creature leapt from a tree and streaked across his path, its red eyes gleaming.

'Holy-' The remainder of this exclamation was drowned out as Dean shot futilely at the devil as it was swallowed by the night.

'Shit.' Dean cursed, before sprinting toward the cabin.

* * *

Sam and Dean had gone, searching for the predator hoping to kill the last of the Leeds family line, taking their revolvers and a shotgun they found propped against the wall with them. Leaving Ella alone with Christine and her enormous belly.

Talk about awkward.

Christine had not yet spoken and Ella could not say she minded, although after fifteen minutes she had lost all feeling from her hand- Christine's vice-like grip (her way of coping with the contractions) had cut off all circulation.

All was silent, save for Christine's breathing-, which varied from being laboured, to an obvious effort to calm herself down, to calm and regular.

The quiet unnerved Ella. She didn't know what to make of it. Did this mean that Sam and Dean were doing one hell of a good job in not causing Christine to panic or was it that they were far off in the distance, out of earshot while the jersey devil watched the cabin, biding its time?

Man, and to think if she was in Australia being normal, all she'd be doing was watching TV, with her homework resting on her lap rather than comforting a pregnant men's magazine model whose rich husband had been murdered as result of a family curse that went back generations and generations.

But if she were in Australia being normal, then Laura would still be alive. And the only way she would know about Dean Winchester was through a photo she'd stolen from her mother's photo album at age seven and kept with her ever since.

How strange to think she'd spent eleven, nearly twelve years imagining what it would have been like to grow up with a dad. To have someone to pick her up from parties and make lame jokes and embarrass her in front of her friends. To cheer too loudly for her when she won awards at school and to get all emotional when he saw her in her formal dress and declare that she was growing up much too fast. And now here she was with not just a father but an uncle too.

But family life sure hadn't turned out quite the way she'd expected it.

'Um…excuse me? Betsy, was it?' Christine's voice drew her from her introspection. She reminded herself to think of a cooler false identity next time.

'Yep. Are you ok?'

'Do you think you could get me a glass of water, honey?'

'Water? Sure, not a problem.' Glad for something to do, Ella prised her hand from the model's grip and headed into the tiny kitchen.

She filled a glass from the tap quickly and returned as fast as she could, careful not to spill any water on the floor.

Christine accepted it gratefully, but as she sipped, her forehead creased. 'This isn't the Evian in the fridge is it?'

'Oh! No! Sorry, I didn't know…' Ella trailed off, taking the proffered glass once more and returning to the kitchen, suppressing an urge to laugh/roll her eyes.

The bottle was the only item in the fridge and as Ella enclosed her fingers around it, she made a mental note to relate this anecdote to Dean- who would surely see the funny side in it too.

Pouring a liberal amount into the glass, Ella stared absently out the window.

A glint of red in the darkness caught her eyes and something like an electric shock coursed through her. It was the jersey devil. It was gone before she could take a second glance. Not that she was sure she wanted to.

Without stopping to think, she returned to Christine's bedroom, her mind racing as she tried to think of what she could do. As she racked her brains, a conversation from the previous day came to mind:

'_We've got your shot guns…your rope, your fake Ids and a drama department's worth of costumes…oh, and your rock salt, gotta love the rock salt. It repels spirits, so keep that in mind.'_

Salt.

'Here's your Evian.' She managed; her throat dry as she passed Christine the glass. Despite the furious beating of her heart, she was amazed at how outwardly calm she appeared. 'Listen, crazy request but do you know if you keep any salt anywhere?'

'Salt?' Judging by the look on the pretty blonde's face, Ella may as well have been asking for Krispy Kremes.

'Yeah, salt.' Ella continued levelly. 'It's an um…It's kind of a Goldstone County custom. You know, to ask the gods for a pain free birth…and, uh….' She floundered as Christine continued to look at her as though she was crazy. 'For a quick and healthy return to your pre-baby weight. And an absence of stretchmarks.' She added hastily before plastering a charming smile on her face.

This seemed to win Christine over. 'Check the top cupboard next to the refrigerator. That's where Darren used to keep the condiments back in New Jersey.'

'Great! Thanks!' Ella sprinted down the hallway once more, practically throwing herself into the kitchen. Jumping up to fling the cupboard door open, she cursed being so short.

Sure enough lined up in the cupboard were pepper, paprika, rosemary and…salt.

Her hand closed around the flimsy shaker. It would have to do.

Having no real idea what she was supposed to do, she proceeded to make her way around the cabin, sprinkling grains of salt along the windowsills and lining the thresholds. All the while her heart pounded in her eyes, her breathing shallow as she braced herself for the thing to come bursting in at any moment.

A scream came from the bedroom and fear seemed to freeze her. 'Christine?' She croaked. 'What's wrong.'

'I'm in labour! What the hell do you _think _is wrong?' Came the strained reply.

Ella exhaled shakily. 'Are the contractions coming closer together?' The only terminology she knew about giving birth was from movies and television. The episode of _Friends _where Rachel has Emma floated inexplicably to mind.

A groan was the only response she received.

That was it. She shouldn't have to handle this on her own. Bloody stupid hunters abandoning her and dumping her with the pregnant chick just because she was a girl while a monster prowled around the outside of the cabin.

'Where's my baby, Charlie?' She muttered to herself, on the verge of hysteria. Fumbling in her pocket, she took out her mobile and scrolled through her address book till she reached Dean.

But although she dialled, nothing happened. Inspecting the screen she discovered why: no signal.

'Bloody farm.'

She paced about the cabin, phone out in front of her like a beacon of hope, hoping the little bars of signal would appear on the left side of the screen. Nothing. That'd be right.

She had no choice. She'd have to go outside and try her luck.

The air was cold on her face as she set foot in the damp grass. Out of the confines of the cabin, she felt positively tiny and even more vulnerable underneath the expanse of starry sky.

She walked in a big a circle as she dared around the dwelling. To her immense relief, bars of signal began to appear on the phone.

'Thank God.' She dialled Dean's number and pressed the cell against her ear.

And that was when she saw it.

It hadn't noticed her. It was too busy staring intently through the window of the bedroom. Its' dreadful glowing eyes staring greedily undoubtedly at Christine's enormous belly. It didn't precisely match the description given in the legend. There were no wings. It's hind legs, bizarrely enough, ended in cloven hooves. And it's claws, no, its' talons were lethal. Its' face terribly disfigured, as though it had combined elements of a human appearance with that of…a devil.

It was strange. Ella thought she would have screamed. But she couldn't. Instead she remained still, her whole body seemed to have been overtaken by a numbing sort of pins and needles sensation.

She ended the call without even realising. Her attention solely on the jersey devil.

She didn't think about what she did next. Which was probably just as well.

'Hey!' She shouted, hurling what she'd later work out was the salt shaker at the creature. 'Leave her alone!'

For a second that contained an eternity human and creature stared at each other.

Then with a snarl, the jersey devil lunged toward her.

Turning on her heel, she ran for her life.

And began to scream.

* * *

After over an hour of searching fruitlessly through the property for the paranormal predator, Sam and Dean were beginning to feel a little ridiculous turning corners with their guns raised only to confront the empty silence.

This was slightly unnerving.

Dean had to admit he would have felt much more comfortable about it if the life of a woman and her as-yet-unborn child didn't hang in the balance. And he would have been much more relaxed if his 16-year-old daughter wasn't involved. He could still see how white her face had been when they'd left her with Christine.

'Maybe we should double back, check over everything again.' Said Sam at last. 'It could be anywhere, Dean. It could even have gone back to the house.'

'Yeah, that's a comforting thought.' Dean muttered as he turned to follow his younger brother the way they had come.

The sound of his phone ringing, sounding AC/DC's _Rock and Roll ain't noise pollution _caused the two of them to halt abruptly.

Digging the offending object out of his jeans he stared at the screen which displayed the words _Ella's cell_.

'Hello?'

But she had hung up as quickly as she had rung. He wondered briefly it was some sort of prank call.

Then he heard the scream.

'Oh _man_!' He exclaimed, breaking into a run as Sam immediately followed suit. 'Sammy, go to Christine! I'll look for Ella.'

Sam might have replied but Dean did not hear him. He tore toward the sound of the scream, hoping, praying that everything would be ok. He hurtled through a field, pausing to see Ella throw herself into the Impala.

He felt almost numb with relief. She was alive.

Then out of nowhere, the jersey devil appeared at the car window, clawing at the door. Protective anger coursed through Dean's veins. There was no way in hell that son of a bitch was hurting his baby. Either of them.

'Hey!' He called loudly.

He shot once. It seemed paternal instincts had blessed him with accuracy. The jersey devil slumped lifeless to the ground.

All was still for a heart beat.

And then Ella climbed, trembling, out of the car.

Something flooded through Dean. Something he'd only ever associated with seeing Sammy safe and well. Without thinking twice, he ran toward her.

'Dad,' She managed.

His gun fell to the ground as he threw his arms around her and drew her close to him. 'Friggin' sixteen year old daughters.' He muttered into her hair. 'You tell them to stay away from hunting but they're too stubborn for their own good and so they get themselves caught in the cross fire.'

'You _made_ me come here.' She told him as she drew back, wiping tears from her eyes. 'To look after the bloody pregnant supermodel. You sexist pig, I had no idea what do!' Her laughter had a slightly hysterical. 'She asked me for a drink of water and I got it for her from the tap and then she told me she wanted _Evian_.'

For some reason, the two of them thought that this was the funniest thing they'd ever heard. Maybe it was the leftover adrenaline but they couldn't stop laughing. It was then that Dean noticed that the two of them had the same colour eyes.

As their laughter finally subsided they looked up to see Sam watching them, torn between thinking they were crazy and being somewhat touched by the whole scenario.

'John just rang.' He announced. 'He and the doctor are on the way here.' His gaze fell on the corpse of the creature beside the Impala. 'I'd say we have just enough time to burn the thing.'

Dean's face lit up at this prospect. 'Let me get my matches.'

* * *

'So because of us, that curse is finally broken.' Ella reflected as the three of them drove away at dawn after each taking turns to nurse little Darren junior. The adrenaline had not yet ebbed away and though she had had no sleep, she felt wide-awake.

'Yep.' Dean confirmed. 'The Leeds line is free. Darren junior and his MILF have the whole world open to them.'

Ella nodded thoughtfully, leaning her cheek against the window. 'It's a good feeling isn't it?' She said after a time. 'Helping people like that. It's scary as all hell, but afterwards…to think because of us people get to live their lives…'

The Winchester brothers exchanged glances that contained a plethora of meaning. Dean realised that Ella had well and truly inherited the hunting gene. There was nothing he could do to fight it or repress it. Whatever danger lay ahead, her path had been chosen. Perhaps years before he had even known it existed.

'Yeah.' He agreed. 'Yeah, it is a good feeling.'

And with that, he placed his foot on the accelerator and the Impala surged ahead into the unknown.

* * *

_Well, I'm back and I hope that chapter was ok, it was sort of strange to get back into writing this fic again but here it is. What are you guys thinking of Season 3 so far, I thought the first four episodes were great but since then the monster/supernatural aspect has been kinda lacklustre with the best scenes being the interaction between Sam and Dean. Feel free to drop a review. It can be about Season 3, this story or basically anything you want it to be about. Lol how can you resist that offer? _


	11. Chapter 11

_Wow, look who finally updated. Thanks to everyone who reviewed or PMd me with answers to my questions. You guys are fabulous, especially StopSmackingMe07 and Jazzy, you chicks are the bomb. Anybody actually interested in reading my essay- just drop me a line and I'll email it to you._

_Also, a bit of shameless cross promotion. I'm beta-ing the work of ToxicLullaby- check out her story 'The Shadows That Surround Us' and review. Anyway without further ado..._

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Chapter 11

_His ears were ringing, his eyes watering and the onset of nausea was an unwelcome (although admittedly not unexpected) ingredient to the mixture of alcohol, cigarettes, greasy food and loud music. He needed some fresh air._

'_Be back in five, mate.' He announced to Tom, his moshing companion. _

'_Huh?' Tom yelled, not troubling to cease his drug induced and rather abstract dance routine. _

'_I'm just gonna…look, I'll be right back.' _

'_Yeah orright...' It was clear Tom had not taken in a word as he'd grabbed a skinny blonde in a faux-vintage rock t-shirt and was now proceeding to grind against her in a manner that surely wasn't a result of being in an overcrowded makeshift mosh pit. _

_Fighting his way through the crowd, ignoring the angry swearing, Luke managed to escape into the balmy night air, away from cacophonous rubbish of the band on stage. Pretentious wankers, he thought to himself as the lead singer stage dived. This particular group seemed to think they'd made it already, with the guitarist performing elaborate solos in every song and the lead singer holding out the microphone to the crowd during the choruses- hoping they would chant the lyrics only to be met by embarrassing silences. Did the fact that they were playing a 1am timeslot do nothing to alert the idiots to their nobody-status? _

_Clutching his head, Luke sat himself on a grassy hill, populated only by the strewn litter of hot chips buckets, grease paper and cigarette butts. The remaining festival goers were either dancing in front of the stage, in one of the quieter venues- the marquee or the old shed- or partying on the other side of the hill were a sea of tents had been pitched for the occasion. After realising the whole sitting-down thing was only making him feel sicker, he decided a walk would be the best way to clear his head. If that walk led him to more beer, then so be it…The only way to cure drunkenness was to get even drunker…He really was a true Irishman. _

_He stumbled and tripped a few times but eventually he found himself by the river._

_Sighing, he revelled in the crisp, quiet air- the music and lights of the festival were oddly muffled somewhere in the distance. He didn't know how much more he could take of this backpacking-around-the-US-business. His hard-earned travelling cash had all but run dry and third year uni was starting in September. It was all right for Tom with his father's trust fund- he could keep playing the fool for the rest of his life if he wanted to. But other people weren't so lucky…other people had to grow up and behave like adults once in awhile. _

_At first, the bitter weeping was only background noise- perhaps the crowd had realised how terrible the band really was but soon- as his senses sharpened it become louder, more pronounced and noticeable. Glancing around, his eyes settled on the form of a young woman, her back to him, kneeling beside the riverbank, crying her eyes out. She was unusually dressed, clothed in a flowing green, long-sleeved gown, her hair pinned elaborately on the back of her head. Then again…this was a music festival, meaning the dress code was limited only by one's pot-influenced imagination._

'_Hey, love, you alright?' He inquired tentatively, edging toward her. 'Are you ok?'_

_He decided that it was most likely her boyfriend had taken advantage of the free condoms being handed out with another girl. In which case, the only thing that would make her feel better was a pint of Jack Daniels or Budweiser or whatever it was these Americans drank and he would offer to buy the first round…_

_As he approached her, her wailing intensified as she buried her face in her sleeves. He wondered briefly if she had been about to drown herself. If this was the case, he had to do something…_

'_Miss…Miss…' He tapped her on the shoulder. 'What's wrong? Is there anything I can do to help you'_

_Gradually, her sobbing ceased, but still she hid her face in her sleeves. _

'_It's alright, darl.' He encouraged in what he hoped was a soothing tone. 'I don't care if your eyes are red or anythin'. I just wanted to make sure you're ok.'_

_She sniffled and began to stroke her face as though surreptitiously wiping her eyes. Then, slowly, she turned toward him._

_It took him less than a second to register that something was terribly wrong. Below her hairline, there were no eyebrows, no eyes…No nose, no mouth. It was as smooth as an eggshell…Where was her face?_

_He might have screamed, he couldn't be sure. Electrified by fear, he staggered backward as she rose gracefully to her feet. Turning on his heel, he ran for his life, not daring to look backward. He'd never realised how far away the festival site was from the river- he seemed to run for miles. The first sign of civilisation was a guy packing up one of the market stalls selling items as eclectic and varied as trilbies, cigarette cases and beach towels. _

_He raced toward him, guided by the sole street lamp hanging overhead. Whether it was the terror or the alcohol, he found himself on his knees in front of the counter, gasping for air._

'_What happened to you? Too many hallucinogens?' Snickered the stall owner. 'You're whiter than my ass in the winter.'_

_Ignoring this crude comparative, Luke found himself gibbering. Raving. 'And then s-she turned around and…I can't…I can't tell you what I saw. You'll think I'm stark raving mad…I won't say what it was…'_

_The man nodded sympathetically, rubbing his forehead. 'Was it anything like this?'_

_Luke's breath caught in his throat as he gazed slowly upward. The stall owner was faceless._

_The lamp shining overhead flickered and died._

* * *

'Woah, check this out. We _definitely _have to get you one of these.'

As her eyes fell on the item her father was holding up, Ella frowned uncertainly. 'I don't know…'

'Oh, come on, lighten up!' Dean grinned broadly. 'If we're going to be spending other people's money using lies, fraud and subterfuge- the least we can do is have a little fun with it.'

Still grimacing, Ella took the jacket from him and inspected the price tag. 'Dean, that's real leather.'

'I know, and it's _awesome_.' Dean's eyes gleamed. 'Come on, consider it compensation for sixteen years without birthday presents.'

She took the bait, scoffing. 'Please, this is maybe _one and a half _birthdays. You've still got fourteen and a half to make up for.'

'One step at a time, my friend. Now try it on.'

Ella laughed, shaking her head at his enthusiasm. 'This is your repressed urge to play dress ups as a child coming through isn't it? Now you're living out your transvestite fantasies vicariously through your teenage daughter.'

'Just try it on, Sigmund.'

Rolling her eyes, Ella pulled her arms through the sleeves of the beautifully cut black leather jacket.

'Now you're a real Winchester.' Dean approved.

'That's superficial. Was I a fake Winchester without the 500 dollar jacket?'

'No…but I wasn't comfortable with publicly declaring that we were related.'

Ella made an exasperated noise in the back of her throat.

'Wow, have you been taking lessons from your uncle? That was good.'

She gave him a withering glare. 'I'm not letting you buy this for me.'

Dean mimicked her and she gave him the finger.

'Flipping the bird, Ella? I'm impressed. Maybe you don't need the jacket to qualify as my daughter after all.'

'Excellent-

'But I'm still getting it for you anyway.' Looking mighty proud of himself, Dean strolled to the store counter and took out his wallet.

'Just this?' Asked the sales assistant politely, assuming her position behind the counter.

'Yep, for now.'

'Oh and by the way, the other gentleman you came in with asked if he could see you.' The assistant turned to Ella. 'He's waiting outside the fitting room.'

'Ok, thanks.' She responded cheerfully.

Dean's eyes darted from Ella to the jacket, looking torn. 'Actually, do you think you could hold this for me? I'll be right back.' He assured the women.

'Certainly.'

Ella looked warningly at him. 'If he only asked for me I don't think you should come.'

Dean looked as though Christmas had come early. 'You made him try the skinny jeans didn't you?' He said, sounding positively gleeful.

'I'm not going to tell you.' She turned her back on him and began to cross to the other side of the department store.

'You did, didn't you?' He caught up with her easily. 'Please tell me they were the red drainpipes with the hearts on the back pockets.'

'I think I have a little more class than that.'

Chuckling, Dean flipped open his phone.

'What are you doing?'

'This'll make a fantastic screensaver.'

'Jerk.'

'Brat.'

They found Sam standing petulantly outside the fitting room, trying to make himself as invisible as possible. Which was rather difficult for a six foot four man in black skinny jeans, green converse and a hip length, tight fitting graphic print purple t-shirt

Dean doubled over with laughter, dropping his phone, which Ella quickly tossed to Sam to use as blackmail.

'I hate you both.' Sam muttered as Ella fought back a smirk herself.

'It's not _that _bad.' She managed at last. 'At least you'll look the part.'

'I thought it was a music festival not Mardi gras.' Dean gasped between fits of mirth.

'Ha, ha.' Sam dead panned. 'What I don't understand is that if Dean can get away with the clothes he's been wearing his whole life, why can't I?'

Ella looked him in the eye. 'Do you want the truth?'

Sam nodded plaintively.

'See, while dear Dean here will fit right in with his metal headedness, immaturity and womanising tendencies regardless of what he wears, you, my best and only uncle, will stick out like a sore thumb with your tendency to drink only in moderation and turn down the stereo when it's up too loud. While there are many who appreciate your polite, bookish ways, we will not find them at the festival. So, in order to blend in, rather than asking you to change your personality- I'm simply asking you to change your clothes.' With this, Ella stepped back and regarded him appraisingly. 'At the moment, you look bloody ridiculous. However…' Brow furrowed in concentration in an uncanny resemblance to Dean, Ella yanked a number of random garments of nearby racks (or at least, they seemed random to the boys) 'I think there's still hope.' Now, she passed what she had gathered to Sam. 'Try the grey Levi's shirt with the dark collared shirt over it- but leave the shirt unbuttoned, ditch the green converse, I think we should stick with classic black and wear your own jeans.'

Nodding grudgingly, Sam returned to the fitting rooms. Dean glanced over at his daughter. 'Look at you go, Rachel Zoe.'

'I'm here til Thursday.' She replied.

Sam emerged five minutes later, looking thankfully less effeminate.

'Very handsome.' Approved Ella flippantly. 'Now, let's get these and have lunch, I'm starving.'

As she tried to lead them to a closer cash register, Dean shook his head. 'I'm not leaving this store without that jacket.'

* * *

In the two weeks that had passed since they had left Goldstone County, Ella had been given the Winchester_ Surviving on the Road 101_. This was not, Dean had stressed repeatedly, to encourage her in any way shape or form to develop an attachment to hunting, but rather to help her deal with a lifestyle that was…somewhat out of the ordinary.

'Hunter or not, in your case not,' He'd said very early on. 'There are a few things you're gonna need to know if you intend on sticking around.'

Ella had often been teased by her mother for being the responsible, sensible one of the two of them. And for her whole life until this point Ella had assumed that was how it would always be: Laura would be the fun, bubbly, adventurous, slightly wild one. Whilst Ella would live vicariously through her mother's tales of her backpacking days. Although these stories ranged from table dancing in Italy, to being an accidental extra in a Hollywood blockbuster in Copenhagen, the epitome of her mother's crazy days, in Ella's opinion, was befriending a cocky American with a leather jacket and a chevy; having a one night stand with him and finding herself pregnant with his child at the age of 18.

But now suddenly, at 16, Ella found herself learning about and experiencing things that made her mother's anecdotes seem rather less surreal and out there. Being thrown out of her comfort zone, having all expectations she had ever had about her future and any notions she had of herself and her capabilities almost thrown out the window was terrifying in many ways and achingly sad in others. Often she found herself wishing that her mother could see her now, trying to imagine what she would think of it all. But if Laura hadn't been killed, Ella would never have been introduced the hidden world of the supernatural and the evil that lurked there. Nor would she have the desire to hunt these things herself.

It wasn't revenge…She didn't know if she was capable of such a consuming, bitter passion. But if there was anything she could do to stop another family from having their lives apart this way…she wanted to learn how to do it.

She never expressed this outright to Dean. He was so determined that she have a stabler, safer life than he ever had and the idea of his newly found teenage daughter that he would have been alarmed at her concepts of altruistic hunting. He taught her only what she needed to know. But she watched and listened to the brothers very carefully; read everything Sam lent her and more. Gathering knowledge and soaking up all she could about this foreign yet innately familiar lifestyle.

And in the past two weeks she had learnt a lot.

It had started the night after the Jersey Devil incident. She had been lying on the bed in her motel room-, which once again adjoined to the brothers' watching _America's Next Top Model_. Suddenly Dean appeared in the doorway, brandishing a camera.

'Say cheddar.' He remarked as she sat up, glancing at him questioningly. The camera flashed, capturing what Ella was sure was a rather unflattering shot of her.

'What's that for? Your MySpace?' She questioned.

Dean ignored this, glancing at the screen. 'I've seen this one, the hot whiny one with no personality wins.'

But before Ella could throw a pillow at him in indignation, he had disappeared, fishing his car keys from his pocket. Moments later, she'd heard the familiar putter of the Impala as the key was turned in the ignition.

It had just been her and Sam that night. His and Dean's room possessed a little kitchenette, and, tired of having take out or fast food, Ella proposed she cook dinner. They'd walked to the supermarket together at dusk. Looking quite the pair with their thirteen-inch height difference, Sam's loping strides and Ella's quick steps.

'Man, I haven't been to a supermarket for years.' Sam remarked in almost wonderment as Ella selected a trolley and wheeled it through the entrance.

She laughed disbelievingly. 'Are you serious?'

'Yep.' Sam surveyed the stands heaped with fruit and vegetables. 'Wow, I'd almost forgotten that produce could actually exist in organic form.'

Ella laughed again. 'Did you think they just came into being fried or freeze dried?'

'Can we actually buy this?' asked Sam excitedly, grabbing a head of lettuce.

'It's a supermarket, not an art gallery.'

Sam was like a kid in a candy store. Neither he nor Dean cooked- whether it be because they couldn't be bothered or had forgotten how to. The prospect of eating a fresh meal was almost giddying.

They were sitting down to spaghetti and meatballs, salad and garlic bread when Dean returned.

'Well hell-o Suzie Home maker.' He greeted as he eyed the meal appraisingly, shrugging out of his jacket.

'Yours is on a plate on the bench.' Ella nodded over to the kitchenette. 'Where've you been?'

'Well,' Dean grabbed his dish and seated himself at the table. 'If you want to be a Winchester…then you have to be able to be other people as well.'

'What?'

Dean handed her an elastic banded stack of ID cards. Her eyes widened.

'Ho-ly…' She flicked through them. 'Isabella Swan, Student ID for Harvard…Elizabeth Swann… 3rd year Yale Undergraduate…Princeton…Dartmouth…Connecticut State…Ella Fitzgerald…Junior Receptionist…Cat Stevens…Administration Assistant…Jean Simmons…Intern.'

'Sorry I couldn't get you any cooler aliases. At 16, you don't exactly look close to working for the FBI. Especially cos you actually look closer to 13.'

'Hey, do you want your dinner or not?' Ella threatened. 'Just because I'm short…' She continued to sift through the Ids. 'Hannah Montana? Are you serious?'

'Hey, that chick's going to be a babe in 10 years time.'

'Cradle snatcher.'

'Cradle…dweller.' Dean muttered.

After the Ids, it had been pool and poker. Knowing Sam disapproved, Dean had waited until his little brother had fallen asleep in front of the television before knocking on the bathroom door, talking as loudly as he dared over the rush of the shower without waking Sam.

'Meet me at the car in ten minutes, make sure you look 21.'

Ella was not good at pool. Being left handed, totally unco and 160cm tall, she was not cut out for wielding a cue and sinking balls. At one point she winded her father when he unwittingly stood behind her to help her line up a shot.

'Huh…' Dean grunted, doubling over in pain.

'Oh my God! I'm so sorry!' Spinning around, Ella proceeded to hit him in the face.

'Son of a…' Dean clutched his nose.

'Oh shit! I'm so sorry!' Ella dropped the cue. 'Oh! Sorry! I just swore in front of you! Is that allowed?'

'Get in the car.' Dean managed. 'We'll play poker at the motel.'

To their great relief, Ella wasn't that bad at poker. In fact, she was quite good.

One day it rained so hard that Dean's plan to take her out shooting that the three of them spent the entire day holed up in a motel playing. Ella had suggested they play with matchsticks. Ever confident, Dean magnanimously announced that _she _could use matchsticks but he and Sam would use real money.

By the time night rolled around, it was Ella paying for dinner and ordering the movie on pay-per-view.

In the days prior to the shopping expedition, Sam and Dean had alternated in training Ella up physically.

'Not enough to make you butch.' Dean assured her. 'Just enough so that you can save your own ass next time a Jersey Devil's trying to kill you.'

She'd already learned how to load and shoot a shotgun but they practised aiming at beer bottles Dean would line up on the fence posts of paddocks in the middle of nowhere. It went well…for the most part. Whenever Sam or Dean imitated the sound the lone cow had made when pelted with rock salt (a rather piteous moan), Ella would block her ears and sing loudly.

There was knife throwing- which she improved at, even while nursing a number of wounds, physical combat- in which she often resorted to screaming, scratching and kicks in the groin (in the end Sam refused to teach her 'You're her father' He told Dean in an unusually high pitched voice after hobbling out of the gym one afternoon.), hot wiring cars and more theory based study.

It was while showing Ella how to put together a file on a case that Sam had stumbled across the incident at the music festival. An Irish backpacker had reported sighting a man and a woman, both faceless, to a fellow traveller before being discovered drowned in the river.

'You think she's ready?' Ella had overheard Sam saying to Dean in the adjoining room one night as she tried to sleep.

'As ready as she'll ever be.'


	12. Chapter 12

_This story has been languishing untouched on my laptop for months and months now. Occasionally I'd get an email saying someone had added me to their story alert and I'd think 'mm should get back to that someday' but in the brilliance that is season four, I wasn't entirely sure where to go with good old Mysterious Ways. When I started writing this, season two hadn't even premiered in Australia yet. The mythology has left me for dead. To borrow a phrase- I've been Kripke'd._

_However over the past couple of weeks I've been thinking about it- I love Ella and have for quite some time been trying to place her in an original story without much luck. I don't know yet what tale would do her justice. I figured I should continue to explore her options in this story. While doing research for something else I'm working on, I came up with an idea for M.W. But the credit for its resurrection goes to a motivating email for StOpSmackinme07._

_This teaser is just as much for anyone who still wants to read this story as it is to remind me to soldier on with the chapter. So enjoy this little tidbit._

Chapter 12- Teaser

'Ok, now turn on your indicator.'

Ella swiped frantically at the controls on the left side of the steering wheel. The windscreen wipers burst to life with a vengeance.

'The other side, the other side.' Dean cried hurriedly.

'Shit.' Ella flicked the wipers off, hitting out at the handle on the other side before returning her sweaty palm to the steering wheel, which she clutched desperately.

'Good, good. Now start to brake. Brake…BRAKE!'

'Shit.' Ella slammed her foot down on the brake pedal and the three of them suffered a moderate case of whiplash as they jerked to a halt just behind the white line of the intersection. 'Sorry!'

'Holy mother of God.' Dean muttered to himself, rubbing his forehead. He stole a glance in the rearview mirror at his little brother. Sam's face was tinged a sickly green, upon catching Dean's eye, he shrugged helplessly.

How naïve he'd been to think that fatherhood would be full of nothing but fun past times like intimidating adolescent boys and cracking lame jokes.

'Ok.' He took a deep breath. 'When this light turns green, you're going to turn into the second lane on the left. All right?'

'Ok.' Ella nodded. She looked just as if not more nauseous than Sam did. Her small shoulders were hunched with tension. She swallowed, focusing so hard on the traffic light her eyes watered.

The light remained red but a green arrow pointing left appeared. What on earth was that supposed to mean?

'That's green. Go, go!' Dean ordered.

'What?'

'Go!'

The Impala surged forward, Ella spun the wheel urgently and the car swung into the first lane. Right into oncoming traffic.

'Wrong lane, wrong lane!' Dean yelled as car horns sounded belligerently and Ella cut across in front of a BMW to move into the next lane and merged with the line of traffic.

'Jesus, Ella, what was that? You nearly got us all killed!'

'You frigging Americans drive on the wrong side of the road!' Ella retorted angrily. Her heart was beating crazily, her shoulders ached they were so tense and she wanted to cry.

'You're not in Sydney anymore, Kylie.' Dean wiped the sweat from his brow.

'I know that!' She snapped, choking back tears. They passed straight ahead through another intersection without incident.

'I want to pull over.' She announced.

'We're almost on the highway.' Dean's tone was still exasperated but his expression had softened.

'I want to pull over.' She repeated stubbornly.

He sighed. 'Ok, turn on your right indicator and pull into the curb up ahead. Just behind that soccer-mom mobile.'

Ella obeyed, parking safely behind the blue mini van. Its number plate was SUZ 1970

'Nice park.' Dean commended grudgingly.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak as she unbuckled her seatbelt and escaped from the driver's seat.

Dean eased himself out of the passenger side and Sam climbed gratefully from the back.

Ella avoided her father's gaze as she allowed Sam to pass her and clambered into the backseat. Where she decided she belonged.

'Are you ok, Baby?' Dean asked worriedly as he crossed in front of the bonnet to the driver's side.

'I'm fine.' Ella mumbled, the desire to cry had been drowned out by her wounded pride and the urge to sulk.

'I think he meant the car.' Sam supplied kindly as he slid into the front seat.

'Oh.' And the temptation to sulk increased.


End file.
